Taking The Power Back
by Tracy-Lou
Summary: Ste learns the terrible truth about Brendan's father.
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they belong to Hollyoaks!

Summary: Ste learns the terrible truth about Brendan's father.

A/N: I'm hoping this will be at least two parts.

Taking The Power Back

We are what our parents make us, or so Ste had always thought. When he had gone to counselling, they'd talked at length about his relationship with his parents; mainly the abuse Terry had dished out. Thinking back on it now, it had felt good to let it out. Ste remembered many a session where he'd throw things across the room in frustration and the therapist would just sit there calmly, asking him how he was feeling. It seemed ludicrous but after several sessions, Ste could discuss his anger without the need to throw things, and it had improved from there.

During the darkest times with Brendan, Ste had often found himself wondering how a man could become filled with such self-hatred. He hated himself over Amy, no doubt about it, but there was always something underneath the surface with Brendan that Ste had never quite figured out. Of course none of it excused what he did; Ste's actions against Amy were not something he would ever forget, or talk his way out of. It happened, it was wrong. That was it.

It would be easy to abandon Brendan now, or perhaps not, going by past endeavours. But Ste still found himself drawn to him. Not only that, Brendan was changing. Ste could feel it in the way only he himself could relate to and understand. The problem was, Brendan was avoiding him. Ste hadn't thought he'd stick to his word about leaving him be, but he was.

He and Doug had split a while back. It had been a long time coming but Ste was still sad about it. He had cared about Doug, very much. But as Doug had said on the day they broke up, there was always something missing, something inside Ste that Doug would never be able to fill. It wasn't his fault, they just weren't right for each other. Not in this lifetime.

Ste had thought that Brendan would approach him once he was single again but he hadn't. Worse still, Ste felt as though something very significant was going on that he was excluded from. There was an older man leaving the Brady's frequently. He must be staying there, and Ste wanted to know who he was.

It was only when by chance he bumped into Cheryl in the village did he get the opportunity to find out.

"It's my Da" she said with a small smile. "He's come to visit!"

Ste felt the blood draining out of his face. Cheryl frowned at him in concern, asking if he was alright. All Ste could think about was what Brendan had once told him outside the police station, about his Dad picking fights with him and calling him every homophobic name under the sun.

"Yeah I'm fine. Just surprised"

"So were we" Cheryl's face pinched then. "I'm getting along with Brendan for Da's sake. It's not easy"

"Hasn't he suffered enough, Cheryl?" Ste blurted out angrily. He didn't know where the anger had come from, only that the idea of Brendan's father being around made Ste sick with worry. Not to mention the feelings it provoked about Terry.

"Ste!" Cheryl was shocked and a little hurt. "What's gotten into you?"

"I'm sorry, ignore me" Ste shuffled away from her, his thoughts darkening with each step.

A few days later, he saw Brendan and his father walking through the village. Gritting his teeth, Ste made his way over there. He was going to introduce himself, stare this man in the eye. Brendan saw him straight away, his expression flashing with panic before he composed himself.

"Steven" he said curtly. "Can I help ye?"

Now Ste was in front of them, he felt his resolve beginning to diminish. Mr Brady was a very powerful man. He didn't exude the same kind of power Brendan did; his rippled at the edges, cut at you like a knife. Brendan's drew you in like a magnet, Mr Brady's made you want to run away and never look back. Ste gulped, feeling two pairs of eyes on him, oddly identical.

"I just wondered where you were" Ste said lamely. Mr Brady looked at him carefully.

"And you are?" His voice was like velvet. Ste felt himself shudder.

"Ex-employee" Brendan said quickly.

"Right" Mr Brady said, scrutinising his son. "Is that all?"

"Yes" Brendan said, his face expressionless. "We have things to be doing, Steven" he said, his voice cold. If Ste didn't know him as well as he did, he'd think he was giving him the brush off. But Ste could feel the edge to Brendan's tone, the almost pleading nature of it. Ste had been mistaken to approach them, he realised that now.

"No worries" Ste shrugged, feigning indifference. He walked away quickly, feeling the two pairs of eyes burning into the back of his head.

Xxx

Brendan sat at the bar, whiskey in hand. His father was on the phone to someone and even when he was out of the room, Brendan couldn't relax. He was fighting every impulse to stay seated, and his hand shook around his glass.

Even in the face of such despair, Brendan felt himself yearn for something, or more specifically, someone.

Seeing Steven today had been a surprise. Brendan had been keeping his distance for weeks, even after he and Douglas had split up. It wasn't because Brendan didn't care, but because he didn't trust himself. The way Steven had been behaving around him recently had stirred long buried feelings inside of him that had never truly gone away.

When Brendan had accepted his sexuality, he'd slowly began to accept his love for Steven. Now he was simply denying himself what he wanted. Seeing his father again had only heightened that fear. Brendan didn't even know if he could ever give Ste what he truly deserved. He often wondered if he was damaged beyond repair, and after Lynsey's death and what he'd faced at the beach house, Brendan simply didn't know a way back.

His father emerged from his office, his face all hard lines, unrelenting. Brendan could never look him in the eye, he often spoke to his shoes, even as a boy. Especially as a boy.

"I have to go out" his father said.

Brendan nodded, swirling the whiskey around in his glass.

"That stuff will kill ye" he said brusquely. Brendan simply shrugged.

When he was finally alone, Brendan felt his shoulders sag. He poured himself another whiskey and laid down on the sofa, closing his eyes. He hadn't slept since his father had arrived. He spent his nights staring at his bedroom door, which was locked, and clutching his baseball bat beneath the covers. He didn't know what he expected, his father never came to his door. Brendan often dwelled on the thought that his adulthood made a difference, and the fact he was broader and taller than his father now. Regardless, size didn't really matter. Brendan still felt like that frightened little boy every time he saw him, and he knew that would never change.

He was broken from his thoughts by footsteps on the stairs. He tensed immediately, rising to a seated position.

"Who is it?" he asked cautiously.

"It's only me" Steven poked his head around the top of the stairs. "I locked the door downstairs"

"Why?" Brendan rose from his seat, taking several steps back.

"I need to talk to you, alone" Steven approached him slowly, like Brendan was a startled animal. "Your father, right?"

"Yes" Brendan said, his throat already beginning to constrict.

"What's he doing here?"

"Passing through on business" Brendan replied automatically. "Wanted to stop by, see the family" Brendan felt the bile rise in his throat at that word. _Family. _

"Why didn't you tell him to get lost?" Steven asked, perching himself on a chair.

Brendan shrugged. "Why would I?"

Steven stared at him with narrowed eyes. "Have you forgotten what you told me?"

Brendan's mind went completely blank. "Yes"

Steven sighed. "He beat you"

Brendan nodded, feeling outside his own body. He only remembered what he told Walker, the shame of such an act haunting him to this very moment.

Steven continued to stare at him. "There's more, isn't there?"

Brendan felt himself let out a breath, almost a laugh. He sounded hysterical.

"You're scaring me, Brendan" Steven said truthfully.

Brendan looked at him then. "Ye should go"

"I can't" Steven looked away, unsure of himself. "I still care about you, Brendan. I don't like seeing you like this"

"I'm fine" Brendan lied.

"Do you know that you're shaking?" Steven looked at him sharply. "Like, all over? You dropped your glass about a minute ago and you haven't even noticed yet"

Brendan glanced down dumbly at the shattered shards of glass on the floor. "Oh" he said simply, bending down to pick them up. He cut himself almost immediately.

"Brendan!" Steven leapt to his feet, kneeling beside him. "It's really gushing" Steven looked around, before going to the office and bringing the first aid kit back with him. Brendan was staring at his hand, the blood trickling down from his finger, over his palm, and making a puddle on the floor.

"Just blood" Brendan said numbly, his vision beginning to darken. "Seen enough…"

The next thing he knew, he was propped up against the sofa with Steven's jacket across his chest. Brendan blinked several times, disoriented.

"What's going on, Brendan?" Steven asked quietly. He was so close, Brendan could smell his deodorant, could see the fine hairs above his lip. Brendan's eyes rolled, trying to focus.

"Haven't slept in a while" he said, his voice slurred. "Did I just sleep?"

"You passed out" Steven told him. "What on earth is it, Brendan? Please tell me"

Brendan shook his head. "Can't"

"You have to" Steven was cradling his face. "I'm worried about you"

Brendan laughed then, it sounded so hollow to his ears.

"Ye need to get away from me, I'm no good" Brendan closed his eyes. Feeling Steven's hand on his face felt wonderful, in spite of everything.

"Stop that" Steven said sharply. Brendan felt some movement around his wrist. Steven was bandaging his finger. He could feel his touch on his palm, it almost tickled. "Is it him?"

Brendan found himself nodding. Maybe the blood loss was making him delusional, who could say.

"He's done terrible things" Brendan whispered confidentially. "Terrible"

"Worse than us?" Steven stopped bandaging then, his blue eyes fixed on Brendan's face.

"Much, much worse" Brendan closed his eyes again. The whiskey and the blood and Steven's presence forcing his mind into submission.

"Tell me" Steven took his undamaged hand and held it tightly. "I can help you"

"Ye can't" Brendan breathed, his voice raspy. "No one can"

"You have to let me try"

"Forget it, please…"

"Who else have you got, Brendan? Let me help you"

There was a thump downstairs and Brendan's entire body froze.

"I smell smoke" he said, jumping to his feet. Steven sprang after him, alarmed.

"You'll pass out again!"

Brendan stumbled into his office, locating the smell. It was a cigarette, left on the side.

"No no no no no" Brendan clutched his head. "He's coming back for me. No no no no no"

"Brendan!" Steven tried to grab him but Brendan flinched away.

"He's coming, Steven. Ye have to leave! I won't let him have ye, no. Please, ye have to go!"

"No one's coming, Brendan! They're doing some work outside, that's what the thump was"

"Ye sure?" Brendan stared at him with wild eyes. "Please tell me ye are sure"

"I'm positive" Steven said calmly, taking Brendan by the shoulders. "Please sit down"

Brendan nodded, his whole body feeling numb again. "I'm sorry"

Steven looked startled. He knelt in front of him, taking his hand once more. "Brendan, you need to tell me what it is"

"Okay" Brendan didn't even know what he was agreeing to.

Steven pulled a chair over, sitting opposite him. "Start from the beginning"

Brendan shook his head, unable to find the words.

"Cheryl said you went to the beach house" Steven spoke carefully, noting when Brendan flinched. "Something happened at the beach house?"

"I was superman" Brendan said quietly.

"Okay…" Steven said, sceptical but kind. "You were young then, like me"

Brendan looked at him then, re-focusing. "Like ye?"

"When Terry started beating me" Steven said, matter-of-fact.

Brendan winced, knocking something off the table.

"Brendan, it's okay. Forget me a minute, focus"

Brendan nodded, his breathing short and sharp. He felt his stomach twist into knots.

"It wasn't just beatings" he said finally. He couldn't look at Steven.

"Not just beatings? You mean he said things to you too? Like you told me at the police station?"

"That too" Brendan agreed. "But something else… physical"

Steven frowned in confusion. He wasn't exactly quick on the uptake on the best of days. Brendan felt a wave of affection rush through him. It helped him from collapsing right there when the realisation dawned on Steven's face.

"He didn't…"

Brendan turned his face away.

"He…" Steven couldn't bring himself to say the words.

"Yes" Brendan felt the confidence returning to his voice. "Yes"

Steven doubled over, his face ghostly white. "I'm gonna be sick" he announced. Thankfully the bin was only several feet away.

Now that it was out there, Brendan felt lighter somewhat. Or perhaps he was going to pass out again, he wasn't sure. The two of them weren't exactly a good pair, Steven doubled over the bin, Brendan rubbing his back soothingly whilst trying to keep himself conscious.

"He'll be back soon" Brendan said doubtfully.

Steven looked up; his skin now with a grey twinge. "We have to get you out of here"

"What?"

"You can't go near him, Brendan. We have to go to the police"

Brendan felt himself freeze up again. "We can't"

"What are you talking about? You know what he did to you!"

"Steven, it was over twenty years ago, I have no proof. The only person who knew it even happened is gone now"

"Except me" Steven said, oddly brave even with the bin clutched in his shaking hands.

"I'm not getting ye involved. I shouldn't have even told ye"

"Well you did, and I'm not letting you out of my sight while he's here"

"There's Cheryl…" but even as he said that, he remembered her saying she was away for the night.

"He never?" Steven let the question hang in the air.

"Never" Brendan confirmed.

"Just you?"

Brendan nodded.

Steven put the bin down, almost apologetic. "You can't stay in the house with him"

"It's just me and him tonight" Brendan said, repeating his earlier thoughts. "Even the lock and the bat won't make me feel safe…" he said this aloud without thinking. Steven looked appalled. "I have to go" Brendan said abruptly, moving to the door.

"What, now?"

"I'll be okay, Steven. I need ye away from me, alright? He can't know who ye are"

Steven looked like he wanted to argue but Brendan stopped him in his tracks.

"It'll make it worse for me"

Steven closed his mouth. "I'm only a phone call away" he still looked unsure.

"Trust me, I'll handle it"

Xxx

Ste didn't go home. He lingered outside the Brady's, trying to decide his best course of action. He couldn't leave Brendan to that man, he wouldn't. Impulsively, he knocked on the door, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Mr Brady answered and once again Ste felt like he was going to be sick. He thought of Brendan and straightened.

"I need to see Brendan, right now"

"Is it important?" Mr Brady asked coldly.

"Yes. He's my landlord, and there's a problem with my flat. I'm not leaving until he comes and sorts it out"

Mr Brady smirked then. Ste couldn't tell if he was truly amused or simply teasing him.

Brendan came to the door then. He took one look at Ste and baulked. "What do ye want?"

"My whole flat's flooded. You fixed that tap wrong, remember it? You need to get round there right now and help me clear up"

"That'll take all night" Brendan said, his face giving nothing away.

"I don't care! If you don't do it I'm going straight to the council"

Brendan bowed his head. "Fine" he grabbed his phone and keys. "Make yerself at home" he said to Mr Brady, not looking at him. They shut the door in his face.

"Steven, what the hell are ye playing at?" Brendan hissed.

"I'm saving you" Ste said simply, and took his hand.


	2. Chapter Two

A/N: This will now be longer than two parts, I couldn't resist! :)

Chapter Two

Brendan hesitated, pulling back on Steven's hand.

"I told ye, ye are better off out of this."

"Well I chose to ignore that," Steven replied, tugging on his wrist now. "Come on, we'll talk at mine."

Brendan bowed his head, allowing himself to be steered away. He didn't have much fight left in him.

It was dark at the flat; Steven had invested in those energy saving light bulbs that Brendan found ridiculous.

"Do they even last, Steven? Why not save yerself the trouble and buy proper ones?"

Steven rolled his eyes, fishing out a few candles. "They're meant to be good for the environment, innit."

"Since when have ye cared?"

Steven shrugged. "It's nice anyway, when I'm alone in the flat and want to chill out."

"Where anything can lurk in the dark?" Brendan slumped onto Steven's sofa. "Sorry, ignore me."

"I've tried," Steven grinned, collapsing beside him. "It's nice to see some of that old Brady charm though, gotta say."

Brendan smirked a little. "Let's see how long ye last till I'm out on my arse."

Steven laughed, laying his head back. "Not long, if we're going by past conversations."

"When did Douglas leave?" Brendan asked unexpectedly. Steven looked at him in some surprise.

"Well, he kinda left before he went to California. He stayed at his old place when he got back and collected all of his stuff after we split."

"Right." Brendan glanced around the flat. He didn't mean to feel this way, but he still felt Douglas' presence there. It unsettled him, and he was feeling unsettled enough as it was.

"I'll, um, get the guest room set up." Steven said awkwardly. Brendan watched him leave, feeling oddly out of place in the small flat, regardless of how many times he'd been there before.

When Steven returned, Brendan stood up awkwardly. He looked down at his bandaged finger. "Thanks for… this," he said gruffly.

"Least I could do," Steven murmured, shuffling his feet. He looked like he wanted to say something. Instead he held out his arms. Brendan stared at him blankly.

"Steven, I don't-"

"For me, okay? I could use one."

Brendan smiled a little then, pulling him in towards him. He held him around the waist, his face buried into his neck. They had shared a few embraces over the past few months and one of the main things Brendan noticed was how competent Steven was, how strong. He held him tightly without restraint, giving Brendan what he needed and understanding what it all meant.

They pulled away after several moments. Brendan could smell him so distinctly at this proximity and their bodies were still partly pressed together as they held each other at arms length.

"We should sleep," Steven said eventually, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.

"I haven't slept in days," Brendan admitted, suddenly feeling very drained.

Steven bowed his head, troubled. "Will you be able to here?"

"I hope so," Brendan sighed, reluctantly pulling away from Steven. It wasn't helping him focus. "Don't worry about me."

Steven smiled a little sadly then. "Sure thing. Night, Bren. Help yourself to water for bed if you want, and I'll leave the hall light on in case you need a piss in the night."

"Thanks," Brendan said, a little amused despite the circumstances. "Night, Steven."

Steven smiled again a little tightly and disappeared into his bedroom, closing the door after him. Brendan's shoulders slumped, alone with his thoughts. He went to get a glass of water, resisting the urge to search for something stronger. The guest bedroom was Amy's old room. A lot of her stuff still remained, but Steven had changed the bed covers to some of his own. Perhaps Amy's weren't Brendan's style.

He placed the glass of water on the bedside table and slipped beneath the covers. Even though they'd been washed, Steven's scent was still present on them. Brendan couldn't differentiate between the covers they'd been on together; it was hard to focus on anything other than Steven when they were together, but Brendan thought they seemed familiar. That, coupled with Steven's reassuring scent, sent Brendan into a deep sleep, finally at ease.

Xxx

Ste sat up in bed for a long time. Now that he was alone, everything Brendan had revealed to him came flooding through him at an alarming pace. He had known there was more to Brendan's past than he realised, but he hadn't expected something like this, or the effect it would have on him.

He was still feeling rough from being sick earlier, and at some point his hands had started to shake. He didn't expect to sleep tonight, but he hoped at least that Brendan was. He crept out into the hall and noted that Brendan's door was open. He peeked inside, his bare feet cold outside of his room. Brendan appeared to be fast asleep. He looked so much younger, his expression soft and relaxed. Ste found himself stepping into the room to get a better look at him.

It was so strange at times, how the love he felt for him was always there beneath the surface. Most of the time he denied it to himself, but at times like these it was plain for all to see. If Brendan woke now he'd see it all over his face. Ste flushed at that thought, finding himself surreptitiously slipping into the bed beside him. He felt safer here. Not because he was scared for himself, but because he was scared for Brendan. He didn't know what he could possibly do in the face of someone like Mr Brady but he felt better knowing Brendan was near and under his protection. He hoped that he could keep him here as long as possible.

At some point he must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew it was morning and he was in the crook of Brendan's arm, on his side of the bed. Brendan was looking at him, a little baffled and a little touched. Ste blushed, smiling at him apologetically.

"Well, that was certainly a nice wake up present," Brendan murmured thoughtfully.

"I don't know why," Ste said quickly. "I just… wanted to be near you?"

"That's…" Brendan trailed off, unsure of himself. Ste wasn't used to this Brendan; who was hesitant and careful in his approach.

"I should um…" Ste sat up awkwardly. The morning was cold and his skin was covered in goosebumps.

"Here." Brendan handed him his black jumper from the night before.

Ste smiled his thanks, slipping it over his head. "I'll make us breakfast," he said, avoiding Brendan's keen gaze. He padded towards the kitchen, flattening his bed hair as he went and breathing into his palm to test his breath. He turned to walk to the bathroom but Brendan was standing there in his underwear, unashamed.

"Do you want a shower?" Ste asked in a rush, the heat rising up his neck and face.

"No, that's alright." Brendan slid into a seat at the table. "Ye can go, I'll make us something."

"Oh," Ste said in surprise, fixed to the spot. "Thanks." He scampered to the bathroom, leaning against the closed door and breathing heavily. What was he doing? Brendan opens up to him and he's back in his bed just like that? But no, that wasn't right. This had been building for _months _and it wasn't as though anything had actually happened. Ste shook himself, trying to get a grip. He turned the shower on, waiting for the water to heat up while he brushed his teeth. Inspecting himself in the mirror, his skin looked a little drab, probably from being sick the night before. He lathered on some face wash, feeling much more refreshed afterwards.

After he'd showered, he cursed himself for not bringing clean clothes into the bathroom with him. He didn't want to walk out there in a towel; that would send the wrong message entirely. Instead he sifted through the washing basket, picking out clothes that didn't really need ironing. He slipped those on and Brendan's jumper too, for warmth's sake, and opened the bathroom door.

The smell of bacon and eggs immediately hit him and he heard his stomach rumble. Brendan had set up the table and even included glasses of orange juice. Ste felt himself smile.

"You've outdone yourself," he said, taking a seat at the table. Brendan turned to him, now dressed in his clothes from the night before, minus his jumper. "Do you want this?" Ste held the fabric of the jumper out but Brendan was already shaking his head.

"Looks better on ye, keep it."

Ste felt himself blushing again and nodded. Brendan put a plate in front of him, sitting opposite him. They ate in silence for a while, both of them stealing glances when the other wasn't looking. Ste knew this because he could feel Brendan's gaze on him. Eventually he met him in the middle, and locked eyes with him.

"We need to talk," he said quietly. Brendan raised his eyebrows.

"About?"

Ste sighed. "Don't pretend, Brendan. You know what about."

Brendan put his fork down, looking at Ste levelly over the table. "I appreciate ye letting me stay last night. It won't happen again, I promise." He stood up abruptly, pushing his chair back.

"Where are you going?" Ste stood up with him, alarmed.

"Home?" Brendan frowned at him. "Where else?"

"No!" Ste exclaimed, blocking Brendan's path. "You can't!"

"Steven, I appreciate that ye are worried but really-"

"No. You're staying put, no arguments."

"Steven-"

"Is Cheryl even home yet? Do you know?"

This caught Brendan off guard.

"Exactly. So stay here at least until you know she's home, okay?"

Brendan sat back down again, abashed. "Whatever ye want." There was an odd look on his face that Ste couldn't read.

"What?"

"It's nothing," Brendan said gruffly. "Actually I could do with a walk."

"I'll come along," Ste offered, scoffing the remainder of his breakfast.

"There's no need," Brendan said plainly.

"Well, I want to," Ste smiled but Brendan barely managed a quirk of the mouth in response. Something was definitely up. "I'm sorry about this morning," Ste said quickly. "Turning up in your bed."

Brendan shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "Doesn't matter."

"It does, I don't want you to think-"

"I don't think anything, Steven," Brendan responded, his voice a little tired.

Ste closed his mouth, placing their plates in the sink. "We better go for that walk then," he said hoarsely, feeling strangely emotional.

Brendan said nothing. He went out the door first, his posture tense and unyielding. Ste closed the door after them, taking a steadying breath.

Xxx

Brendan didn't know what he'd expected. Steven in his bed didn't automatically mean he still loved him, or wanted to get back together. Brendan had been keeping his distance for his own good but it was at times like these when Steven was being so kind and concerned for him that Brendan wavered.

When he had woken up to find Steven fast asleep, pressed up against his body, Brendan had felt a rush of warmth and affection; a feeling he had believed long obliterated by his father's presence. He had believed for maybe a second that everything would be okay, that perhaps he really could have it all and be happy.

But what had Steven begun to say? Clearly he didn't want Brendan to think it meant anything. If that was how Steven felt, that was how it should remain. Brendan couldn't allow himself to become attached again, to believe there could be more. When Cheryl was home he would leave Steven alone and not approach him again. If nothing else, he dreaded his father finding out who Steven really was.

They turned a corner in the village and Brendan spied Doug outside the deli. He glanced at Steven, who looked horror struck.

"I forgot about work," he said, wincing.

"Ye better go then," Brendan said, clearing his throat. Steven glanced up at him, unsure. "I'll be fine, ye go."

Steven clearly thought he had some obligation to Brendan's welfare now. He despised the idea of Steven _pitying _him. Because why else would he go out of his way to be there for him now? It was the same after Lynsey died; he just wanted to do the right thing, because that was the kind of person he was. Brendan couldn't bear his kindness, it reminded him of what he didn't have.

When Doug approached them, looking exasperated, Brendan took advantage of Steven's diverted attention and slipped away quietly. Cowardly? Yes. Necessary? Definitely.

He couldn't go home, that much was certain. He wandered around the village for a while until he decided he needed to get away. He got in his car and simply drove, hardly caring where he ended up. A part of him wondered if he really should leave town for a while, go back to Ireland or something. The only thing that stopped him was leaving Cheryl alone with his father. He knew he had never harmed her but he still couldn't shake that fear off.

Eventually he found a bar in town and spent the rest of the day there, swigging back whiskey and trying to numb himself from everything. His phone rang multiple times, had done since he'd left the village, but he rejected every call, not bothering to check the caller ID. At some point in the early evening, he blacked out.

Xxx

Ste was beyond frantic by now. He'd called Brendan at least twenty times that day and hadn't received an answer. When he finished his shift he tried again, wrapping Brendan's jumper tighter around himself. Finally someone answered, but it wasn't Brendan.

"Hello?" Ste asked carefully. "Who's this?"

It was the bar manager of a bar in town. Brendan had been there all day and he was unconscious. The guy was close to calling the police but Ste reassured him he was on his way to collect him.

He had to take two buses to get there but eventually he did. He didn't recognise the bar; it was a run-of-the-mill place, nothing special, and certainly not a gay bar. He spotted Brendan slumped over a table in the corner. Ste went to him, shaking his shoulders to rouse him.

"It's no good, we've tried," the bar manager said, looking disapproving.

"Just give me a minute, yeah? I'll sort it," Ste replied, exasperated already. "Brendan?" he gave him a gentle shove. "Come on, wake up."

Brendan mumbled something but his eyes remained closed.

"We have to get you home," Ste said pointedly. He leaned in so only Brendan could hear him. "Why did you run away like that? I want to help you, can't you see that?"

"What for?" Brendan finally roused himself. "Pity? Is that it?"

"What is your problem?" Ste asked, angry now. "I'm just trying to help!"

"I don't need yer help." Brendan sat himself up, grasping the table as he tried to hoist himself into a standing position. He stumbled and Ste caught him around the waist.

"This isn't helping anyone, Brendan! What do you expect to gain from this?"

"I just want to forget." Brendan collapsed against Ste, his entire body shaking with the sobs reverberating through his body.

Ste sighed, tightening his grip on Brendan's waist. "You're coming home with me, and you're paying for the taxi I ordered."

Brendan nodded, wiping his eyes hastily on the back of his hand. Ste hated seeing him like this.

"Cheryl's away another night so don't worry about her."

Brendan said nothing; he looked chastened and broken. Ste felt a twinge of guilt for his firmness, but he knew deep down that it was what Brendan needed right now. He fell asleep on the taxi ride home, his head on Ste's lap. Ste let him rest there, his hand in his hair.

It would be so easy to admit that he was only doing this because he felt sorry for him, or because he felt he had to, being the only person in the know. But that wasn't it at all. Ste loved him. He was still in love with him. He had known it for a while now; in fact, he wondered if he'd ever really stopped. A part of him knew that the fragile state Brendan was in right now wasn't the best basis for a relationship, and another part of him didn't care.

He trailed his fingers along Brendan's scalp and for a moment he smiled, imagining that they were coming back from a night out together and not trapped in this terrible nightmare.

He somehow got Brendan through the front door and into bed. He was in no fit state to talk now or undress himself. Ste stripped him automatically, leaving him in his boxers. When he turned to leave, he felt Brendan's hand close on his wrist. It wasn't a firm grip, more of a weak protest. Ste sighed and slipped in the bed beside him, allowing Brendan to curl himself around him, his face in his hair. In the morning, Brendan would simply assume that Ste did it for Brendan's sake, but deep down Ste knew in the bottom of his heart that he wanted this for himself.


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Ste woke early the next morning before Brendan stirred. He slipped quietly out of bed, noting how warm he had felt enveloped in Brendan's arms. The warmth in his stomach didn't disappear when he removed himself from them. He immediately called Cheryl when he entered the kitchen. She picked up after a few rings, sounding chipper for this time of the morning.

"Hiya, love! What's the matter? I'm on my way home."

"I need to speak to you, it's important." Ste said in hushed tones. He didn't want Brendan to overhear him, even from this distance.

Cheryl sighed. "What is it? Is it Brendan?"

Ste knew that Brendan and Cheryl were working on their relationship. He didn't know the ins and outs but they seemed more honest with each other than they ever had been. Cheryl still made comments, like she had to Ste about her father, but they weren't with quite the same amount of venom they once were. Perhaps they were making an extra effort to get along in front of him, or at least disguise that anything had changed. Ste felt himself shudder at the idea of Brendan trying to appease that man, and almost lost his train of thought.

"Yes. He's in bed." Ste said quickly.

Cheryl cut him off, scandalised. "_Your _bed?"

"Amy's actually but that's not the point," Ste said in a rush. "He's been staying with me these past few nights."

"And left Da all alone?" Cheryl sounded on the brink of annoyance so Ste quickly overrode her.

"That's what I need to talk to you about. He can't be alone with him."

"What are you talking about?"

Ste huffed out a breath in annoyance. This wasn't going well.

He thought carefully about his next words. "You must have noticed that they don't exactly… get on."

Cheryl was silent for a moment but then began to speak. "I guess so, but all families have their tension-"

"Brendan's a mess, Cheryl," Ste said, getting to the point. "You need to ask your dad to leave, as soon as possible."

"Are you serious, Ste?"

"Yes."

"I can't just ask him to leave! He's only just got here!"

"Cheryl, listen-"

The phone was taken out of his hands before he had time to react. Brendan was stood behind him, looking disapproving.

"Steven, no."

"But-"

"I said no. I appreciate it but Cheryl can't find out the truth."

"I wasn't gonna tell her," Ste said petulantly, sinking into a chair. "I just wanted her to get rid of him."

Brendan smiled a little, almost affectionately. "She won't, Steven. He's still her hero, always has been."

"No. _You__'__re_ her hero."

"I used to be." Brendan sighed, placing the phone on the table face down.

"You can't go back there, I can't bear it." Ste twisted his hands together nervously.

"I'm not yer problem, Steven."

"You'll always be-" Ste cut himself off, flushing. Brendan's fingers tentatively reached out to him, cupping his chin.

"Look at ye, going red over…" Brendan smiled a little sadly, drawing his fingers away. "I'm sorry about last night." He eventually said. Ste felt his body humming where Brendan had touched him. How did he still have this effect on him?

"It's alright. You shouldn't have run off in the first place though."

"Ye don't need to worry yerself about me, Steven. I can deal with this… somehow."

"By drinking yourself to death? No, I won't have it."

"Steven-"

"You might have given up on yourself but I haven't," Ste found himself standing up. "If Cheryl won't tell him to leave, I'm going to do it myself."

"NO!" Brendan grabbed his arm, his eyes bulging in panic. "Steven, no! Don't go near him. Please. Promise me ye won't."

"I can't just-"

"Please." Brendan begged him, standing up and gripping both of his arms. He was beginning to shake. Ste idly wondered if it was the aftershocks of drinking or the idea of Ste doing what he was proposing, or both.

"Brendan…" Ste looked away, uncomfortable.

"Please, Steven."

He sounded so desperate, and a man like Brendan rarely begged for anything. Ste closed his eyes, resigned to the fate of his heart.

"Okay, I won't."

Brendan sagged against him, his forehead hitting Ste's shoulder with a soft thud.

"Thank ye. Don't do that to me again, thought I was gonna have a heart attack or something."

"I hate seeing you like this," Ste admitted, wrapping an arm around him. "You need help."

"Cheryl and me went to… family counselling." Brendan said, surprising Ste.

"Really? Did it help?"

Brendan shrugged. "I think the counsellor knew…" Even now, Brendan looked disapproving and angry. "Sticking her nose in…"

"That's her job." Ste laughed, making sure they both sat down again. "Listen, I could come with you, talk to her-"

"Steven, ye have done enough already. Ye need to leave it be."

Ste sighed, resigned. "I have to do _something_."

"Why?" Brendan smiled self-deprecatingly. "Ye have yer own life now. Ye will probably meet someone soon enough and, I don't know…" Brendan trailed off, his smile fading with each word.

Ste's stomach twisted horribly at the thought of a new relationship.

"There's no one else, I need a break right now." Ste answered truthfully. "But are you… you know, seeing anyone?" He asked hesitantly, dreading the answer.

Brendan was already shaking his head. "No."

"Not the right time for it, obviously…" Ste laughed nervously. Brendan looked up, his face absolutely serious.

"Steven-"

Someone knocked at the door then and Ste jumped, unaware how caught up in the moment he was.

"Who is it?" He called out.

"It's Cheryl!"

"Ah…" Ste glanced apologetically at Brendan. "I'll sort this." He opened the door and Cheryl came bustling in, glancing at the two of them.

"What's going on then, hm? Leaving Da all night by himself?"

"Cheryl-" Ste began but she held up a hand to silence him.

"You should have called me," She knelt in front of Brendan, taking his hand in her own. "If there's a problem, we need to talk about it. Remember what the councillor said? Maybe Da could come along to our next one?"

Brendan glanced at Ste over Cheryl's head, speechless.

"It's not that, Cheryl," Ste said quickly, thinking on his feet. "He came round here because… because…"

Cheryl looked at him pointedly, waiting for an answer.

"Because we're back together!" Ste said in a rush, smiling sheepishly. Brendan's eyes widened, his face going an odd maroon colour.

Cheryl stood up, her face a picture of shock. Brendan wore an almost identical one.

"We didn't want to say anything, in case you weren't pleased." Ste said, avoiding looking at Brendan for fear he'd crumble.

"I'm just surprised, that's all!" Cheryl laughed breathlessly. She pulled Ste in for a hug. "As long as you're sure? I know my brother can be…" she whispered into his ear.

Ste nodded. "I'm sure." Funny, how utterly truthful that sounded.

"Well, I should leave you to it then." Cheryl smiled, a little flushed in the face. "You should come for dinner tonight, Ste. I was going to cook for Bren and Da."

"Oh I don't know-"

Cheryl placed a hand on his arm. "You'll be there as my guest. No need to reveal anything if you don't feel comfortable," She smiled kindly at him and Ste felt his insides shrivel up and die. Clearly she thought his earlier panic was because of this, and not the truth. "If not, don't worry. We'll be fine just the three of us, I'll probably crash out early though, it was a long trip back!"

Ste looked at Brendan then, making his mind up. Brendan was shaking his head, looking horrified.

"I'll be there." Ste confirmed, forcing a smile onto his face.

Xxx

Brendan sat on the stairs, wearing one of his best suits. His eyes were still bloodshot from his drinking session the night before and the whiskey he downed several minutes ago. His leg was bouncing in anticipation. He kept glancing at his watch nervously, willing Steven to not show up.

Cheryl was busying herself in the kitchen; his father helping. He hadn't said a word to Brendan since he'd gotten home. The not knowing was almost worse than if he'd said a thousand things. Brendan dreaded to imagine what he was thinking of.

There was a knock at the door and Brendan's leg froze mid-bounce. Cheryl swept past him to the door, looking cheerful.

"Thanks for coming, Ste!" She said, accepting the bottle of wine he'd brought. Brendan took a moment to collect himself. Steven had dressed up for the occasion; dark jeans and a buttoned shirt. Brendan's eyes remained fixed on his face however; he could feel his father's eyes on him. "This is Ste, Da." Cheryl said, beaming at him. Of course she didn't know they'd already met. Brendan stood up and came down the stairs. Steven looked him over quickly, his cheeks reddening. Brendan almost smiled at that but stopped himself.

"One of Cheryl's friends, eh?" Mr Brady asked, his accent coming thick and fast. Steven nodded; he was keeping his composure perfectly. Brendan was proud of him. "I hear ye are a chef? Ye best help out in the kitchen then."

Steven nodded, following Cheryl. Mr Brady's words had a hidden meaning that Brendan wasn't sure Steven had picked up on. He knew that his father knew immediately that Steven was gay. Maybe even knew about the two of them. Brendan held himself upright, walking past his father with a quiet dignity he'd almost forgotten he possessed.

A while later when it was almost time to dish up, Mr Brady glanced at Cheryl and Steven laughing together in the kitchen and frowned.

"I hope my Cheryl isn't setting herself up for heartbreak." he said, his voice stiff.

"Course not." Brendan was sat rigid in his chair, the barest flicker of surrender.

"Just friends then, eh?" Mr Brady stared at his son carefully. "What about ye?"

Brendan kept himself poised. "There's no one, Da."

Mr Brady nodded. He didn't look entirely convinced. Thankfully Cheryl called them up to the table then. Mr Brady went first and Steven walked past him to Brendan. Brendan stood up carefully, feeling stiff from his resilience.

"You alright?" Steven whispered.

"Me and ye need a chat later." Brendan said, his voice gruff. He almost lost his balance but gripped the sofa in time. Steven's hand had shot out to grab him. It hadn't gone unnoticed by his father.

Dinner was a tense affair. Cheryl, sensing something wasn't quite right but not knowing the reason, chatted constantly to overcompensate. Steven smiled and answered politely whenever Brendan's father addressed him. When he enquired about his children, Steven gave the barest flicker of resistance. Brendan knocked his cup over then, causing a diversion. Steven gave him the briefest smile in thanks but it was enough to make Brendan feel for that one second out of control.

By the end of the evening, he was exhausted. Cheryl went to bed early, as planned. If it wasn't for her insistence that their father should sleep too, Brendan knew he would have remained downstairs to question him further, even with Steven still present. When his footsteps finally died away, Brendan deflated.

"Jesus." He whispered, his head in his hands.

"I'm sorry, Brendan," Steven said quietly. "I had to think of something."

"I understand," Brendan said, weary beyond belief. "Ye should go, in case he comes downstairs."

Steven's eyes flicked to the staircase. "I think I should stay, just in case."

"Cheryl's here, he won't…" Brendan trailed off. He didn't know what his father would do, as it were.

"Did that stop him before though?" Steven asked quickly, tactless as ever. "I'm sorry." He added immediately.

"No need," Brendan said gruffly. "I appreciate ye coming, to protect me. Ye didn't have to lie to Cheryl like that but…"

"Lie, yeah…" Steven's expression was thoughtful.

Brendan looked at him then, wonderingly. "Steven… why did ye say that? Why did it occur to ye to say that?"

"I don't know," Steven said, a little breathlessly. "It just came out like that." He looked at Brendan carefully, his blue eyes framed by his perfect eyelashes. Brendan found himself leaning in as though pulled by an invisible force. Steven's eyes flickered to his lips and that was all the invitation Brendan needed. At least, it used to be. Brendan stopped up short.

"I'll see ye tomorrow, Steven." He said quietly, drawing back.

Steven nodded, his ears a little pink. "Yeah. Come by the deli, I'll make you a sandwich."

"Great." Brendan attempted to smile but found his cheeks aching with the effort. "Seedless, remember."

"I know." Steven smiled, rising.

When he was gone, Brendan pulled the blanket off of the back of the sofa and turned the television on. After two nights of sleep, he thought he could handle another sleepless night.


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Ste was distracted the next day at work. He hadn't slept well; the flat seemed empty without Brendan in it. He was staring out into the village with such distantness that he didn't notice when a customer walked in. Doug had gone to the cash and carry and the students had just milled out of the door. Ste glanced up, doing a double take when he realised who it was.

"Err, hello." He said, rather astonished. "Can I help you?"

"I hear ye do a mean pepperoni pizza." Mr Brady drawled.

"Sure," Ste eyed him carefully, moving around the counter. "Any other toppings?"

"I'm a one meat kind of man." Mr Brady replied purposefully. Ste was used to Brendan and his metaphors but he didn't understand Mr Brady in the slightest.

"Alright." Ste shuffled out to the back, busying himself with putting the tomato puree on and trying to avoid Mr Brady's scrutinising looks.

"Ye are important to my son, eh?"

Ste put his spatula down carefully. "Yes." he said distinctly. He wasn't giving this man an inch.

"Brendan's not like other men, in case ye hadn't noticed."

Ste's knuckles whitened with the effort of gripping the counter. "I had actually."

"Good," Mr Brady moved towards the till, in Ste's direct sight. "As his father, I feel it's my duty to tell ye to leave him be. He doesn't need influences like ye around."

Ste laughed aloud, unable to contain himself. "Bit rich, init? Coming from you?"

Mr Brady's expression barely altered. "Just giving ye fair warning, son."

"I'm not your _son, _and neither is Brendan."

Mr Brady openly smiled then. "I like ye, ye have spirit."

"Ta." Ste answered sarcastically, throwing his pizza into the oven. "It'll be ready in fifteen."

"I'll wait." Mr Brady said mildly, taking a seat.

Ste kept himself busy in that time, trying not to show he was affected by Mr Brady's presence. It wasn't easy; the man's eyes followed him everywhere. When the pizza was finally ready, Ste didn't take the best care putting it in its box. He thrust it towards the older man and accepted his money without comment.

"I'll see ye around, Steven." Mr Brady said quietly.

Ste nodded, keeping his head. He wouldn't tell Brendan about this encounter, how could he?

The man himself came in only half an hour later. Ste had his sandwich ready made for him. Brendan sat silently on the sofa and munched away. After serving a few customers, Ste came to sit beside him.

"Nice?"

Brendan nodded, not looking up. "Thanks."

"Brendan…" Ste began carefully.

"Mm?"

"Last night… what happened?"

Brendan froze mid-bite, looking up at Ste with genuine confusion. "Last night?"

"We nearly kissed." Ste whispered.

Brendan grinned then, putting his plate on the table. "Steven…"

"No, don't make excuses. We _did._"

"I keep telling ye, ye don't need to concern yerself with me anymore, I'll be alright."

"But it isn't just that, don't you get it?"

Brendan looked puzzled then.

Ste sighed. "Come round tonight at six, I'm cooking."

"Steven-"

"No arguments! We need to talk."

"That's an ominous expression." Brendan said good-naturally. He didn't say it with quite the same amount of amusement that he used to. He looked tired again. Ste found himself reaching out to graze his fingertips underneath his eyes.

"Did you sleep at all last night?"

Brendan shifted uncomfortably. "An hour, maybe? Late night television just isn't what it used to be."

Ste smiled sadly at him. "You can stay at mine again, if you want."

Brendan looked away. "I don't need charity, Steven…"

Ste rolled his eyes, not taking the bait. "We'll discuss it tonight, okay? Just be there."

"Fine." Brendan agreed, stuffing the remainder of his sandwich into his mouth. He stood up to leave but Ste grabbed his wrist.

"It will be alright you know, eventually."

Brendan gave a small smile then. "I'll take yer word for it, Steven."

Xxx

Brendan stood outside Steven's front door at 6 o'clock sharp. He'd decided not to wear a suit; he didn't want to give that kind of impression tonight. His suits always felt like a barrier, a way to close himself off. He felt powerful in them, confident. He didn't want to feel confident tonight.

Steven answered the door in an apron. He'd styled his hair nice and Brendan could detect that he was wearing aftershave. He could still smell Steven's own scent underneath however. He stepped inside as Steven hurried back to the kitchen to continue preparing dinner. Brendan took a seat at the table, noting the lit candles and dimmed lighting.

"Ye haven't had a power cut have ye? Because I told ye, any problems ye call me."

Steven turned a little, giving him a scrutinising look. "The power's fine, the candles are to…create a mood."

Brendan raised his eyebrows sceptically. "What kind of mood?"

"You'll see." Steven gave a sly smile and turned back to the oven. Brendan shifted in his seat, straightening.

"What are we having then?"

Steven turned around, two full plates in his hands. "Curry."

"Perfect." Brendan picked up his knife and fork, tucking in straight away. Steven sat opposite him, smiling in amusement.

"Nice to see you still have an appetite." he noted.

"With yer cooking, how can I not?"

Steven glowed with the praise. "I do my best." He said carefully, picking up his own knife and fork.

"Ye don't give yerself enough credit." Brendan said around a mouthful of food.

"Maybe not." Steven said coyly.

They ate in silence for a while, every now and again shooting each other glances. Brendan was about to question why Steven had asked him here when Steven reached across the table and took his hand.

"Steven…"

Steven squeezed his hand, looking purposefully into Brendan's face.

"I've been trying to work up the courage to tell you this," Steven took a deep breath, the smile not leaving his face. "For a while now I've felt… well, you can imagine, right? All those months we spent, being kind to each other, all those bullets you took…" Steven looked away, collecting himself. "I don't want to be here for you now just because I'm all you've got. I want to because I want to be with you. I still love you."

Brendan choked out a breath. He could feel himself beginning to lose control and that wasn't an option right now. He so badly wanted to give in, to take his boy into his arms and reclaim him. But he knew it wasn't right, he wasn't right. He never would be and Steven deserved better.

"I… I can't." He managed to say, attempting to dislodge his hand from Steven's.

"You _can,_" Steven insisted, tightening his grip. "Give me one good reason why not?"

"I'm no good," Brendan stood up. His hand was so slick with sweat that it came loose from Steven's hand. "I'm sorry." he moved towards the door, each step painful to take. His back was to Steven, who had also stood up. He was at the door when Steven spoke in a very small, broken voice.

"Don't you love me anymore?"

Brendan braced himself against the doorframe. "Please. Please don't…" he whispered.

"I don't understand you, Brendan! You give me all this space, even when me and Doug split up. We sleep in the same bed, we confide in each other. We're finally being honest and you just-"

"Steven, please!" Brendan turned then, his hands beginning to shake. "I can't do this right now."

"I know with your father it's bad timing but… you're so unhappy, Brendan. Can't you see that?"

"It's got to be that way." Brendan murmured.

"No, that's rubbish!" Steven took a few steps towards him. "Forget everything else, how do you feel? Do you want this? Do you want me?"

The way Steven said it, with such clarity and assurance, Brendan was so proud.

"Of course I do," He muttered. "But it doesn't matter what I want."

"Don't sacrifice your happiness," Steven said, stepping towards him. "Not for him, please."

"It's not him, it's me. I can't promise to be better."

"You don't have to, I've _seen _it."

"Steven, ye can't know for sure-"

"Look, it's my choice, isn't it?"

"Of course." Brendan stared at the floor.

"You need to believe in yourself you know, it's important."

Steven was close now; Brendan could smell him. His resolve was beginning to diminish.

"Promise me something." Brendan murmured, looking up into Steven's face.

"Name it." Steven smiled.

"If it gets too heavy for ye, with my father around… ye go, leave me behind."

"Bren-"

"I can't have ye in any danger, Steven. I just can't."

"Okay." Steven said softly, placing his palms on Brendan's chest. "Is that all? Can I kiss you now?" His lips quirked up and Brendan found himself smiling in response.

They melted into each other then. Lips against lips, hands stroking everywhere, bodies pressed flush against each other. Brendan noted how good it felt to taste him again as he pushed him up against the kitchen table, Steven's leg wrapped around his waist. They broke apart long enough for Brendan to push the candles and plates out of the way so Steven could hop on the table. He grinned slyly at him, pulling Brendan towards him by wrapping his legs around his waist.

What followed was pure animal instinct. Brendan didn't know where he ended and Steven began. They were completely lost in each other. Their grunts and gasps carried around the tiny flat as Brendan filled him wholly. Steven's head was thrown back, his Adam's apple bobbing with each breath. Brendan resisted the urge to bite his throat, instead planting soft kisses there.

At the climax, Steven's entire body went into spasm, almost lifting himself off the table. Afterwards they clung together, their bodies aching with physical exertion. Brendan almost felt as though he'd held his breath throughout; it had been so long, and had felt so good.

Steven giggled a little nervously as he allowed himself to be lifted from the table.

"It's on its last legs you know, we might have broken it."

"I'll buy us another." Brendan shrugged, pulling Steven towards him for a kiss.

"Saying 'us' already?" Steven practically glowed with happiness.

Brendan rested his forehead against his. "I've waited so long…" he cupped Steven's face in his hands. "This is for keeps, right?"

"Well I'm hardly going to run off with another American." Steven teased, making Brendan tense. "Honestly, we're just friends." He added hurriedly. Brendan grinned, his eyes half closed.

"Shh, it's fine."

"I don't know about you but I'm knackered now."

"It's only eight, Steven."

"I know but… can we have a nap or something?"

Brendan gave a throaty laugh, wrapping his arm around Steven's waist. "Sure, go and get the bed warm for me."

Steven grinned, rushing off to his room. Brendan watched him with affectionate amusement. His phone buzzed from his jacket and he hesitated. Unable to stop himself, Brendan opened the message, his brow furrowing.

"_Son, when are you getting home? Need to talk. Spoke to that Ste today, if he hasn__'__t already told you. Very interesting__…__ I see why you like him.__"_

Brendan clenched his fist. His father knew where he was and what he was doing. He was taunting him. He hadn't realised how long he was staring at the message until Steven poked his head around the corner, wearing a t-shirt and boxers.

"Bren? What's wrong?"

"Did ye speak to my father today?"

Steven looked at the floor guiltily. "Yeah, he came in the deli…"

"What did he say?" Brendan asked sharply.

"Oh… you know, warning me off you. It doesn't matter-"

"Of course it matters." Brendan sighed, rubbing his temple. "Steven, what did I say before? If it gets too heavy with him…"

"But it isn't!" Steven hurried towards him. "It's nothing, it's an idle threat!"

"He doesn't do idle threats." Brendan said heavily.

Steven's arms hung limp by his sides. "What are you thinking? I don't like that face you're pulling…"

"I should go." Brendan said with great difficulty.

"Are you kidding me? We just… you can't just _go_!" Steven said angrily.

"I have to, Steven. He knows I'm here."

"Who cares?"

"_I _care. After Walker I promised myself no one would use ye to get to me again."

"That isn't the same though."

"Isn't it?"

"We're together this time, we can face anything!"

"Steven, please don't make this harder…"

Steven turned his back to him to disguise the tears already beginning to form. "Just go then, if it's what you want."

"It isn't, ye know it isn't." Brendan tentatively reached out to him.

"I don't care." Steven choked out. "Just go!" He made a lunge for Brendan, his intent not entirely clear. Brendan caught him easily, holding him tightly against his body.

"Shh, Steven… it's alright. I'll stay a little while, we'll sleep."

Brendan half carried him to the bedroom. Steven's breathing calmed once he was lying down. Brendan pulled him against his chest, his hand resting on the top of his head. He let Steven doze but he remained awake, watching him. Steven was stronger than he was; he wouldn't give up without a fight. Brendan wasn't sure he could stay away either and the thought terrified him.


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Ste awoke to an empty bed and a note that simply read _I__'__m sorry. _Ste sat up abruptly, putting his game face on. He wasn't going to take this. Brendan had underestimated his determination. He pulled his coat on, glancing at the mess they'd left the kitchen in and sighing to himself as he swept out of the door. It was later now, gone ten o'clock. Ste knew Brendan wouldn't go straight home so he went by the club instead.

It was loud and buzzing in there. Ste felt out of place after their quiet time together, and somewhat exposed after the intimacy that followed. He walked a little awkwardly; he really needed to clean himself up. He spied the shut office door and made a beeline towards it. He knocked twice before opening. Brendan sat behind his desk, whiskey glass and bottle in front of him. He was slumped over, unconscious.

"Jesus, Brendan." Ste muttered, taking the drink away. He nudged him delicately. "Wake up!"

Brendan grunted and buried himself further into his arms.

Ste straightened, frustrated now. "Brendan Brady!" he yelled, hands on his hips. "You get up right now!"

Brendan jerked awake, eyes red-rimmed and bleary. He'd been crying.

Ste softened a little, bending down to his level. "You're being stupid."

"Not in the mood for tough love right now, Steven."

"Well never mind! You need to come back with me."

"Steven, I can't."

"Why? Because of him? You gonna let him take me away too? Really?"

"It's not that simple."

"Yes it is. Do you want him to win?"

Brendan stared at him, unable to respond.

"Well?"

"Of course not." he murmured.

"Then come back with me. We'll clean you up and then you can decide what you wanna do."

"I can't put ye in danger."

Ste rolled his eyes, exasperated. "I'm a big boy, Brendan. And besides, you think now he knows who I am he's gonna stay away just because you do?"

It was a low blow, but Ste wasn't going to give up on him now that he'd gotten him back. His words stirred some life back into Brendan who rose from his seat unsteadily.

"No more drinking either, it doesn't help."

"Alright." Ste wondered if he was agreeing to get him to shut up, but he didn't care.

"Put your arm around me," Ste instructed. "We'll go out the back."

Once they got outside, the cold air seemed to clear Brendan's mind somewhat. He stood properly, not needing Ste for support anymore.

"I'm sorry, Steven." he said quietly.

"Don't be sorry, get it sorted." Ste said softly. "I'm here for you, okay?"

Brendan nodded, looking up. His entire body froze. Ste followed his gaze.

"Hey, boys!" Cheryl greeted them cheerfully. She had her arm interlocked with her father's.

"Hi, Chez," Ste answered weakly. "You're out late."

"We thought we'd go for a quick drink. Da's not really seen the place yet!"

"Oh yeah?" Ste had a hold of Brendan's jacket, discreetly of course. He could feel him about to bolt. He didn't want Mr Brady to have that pleasure.

"Ye should join us." he said smoothly. Brendan's face twitched.

"Oh yes! You two have hardly seen each other." Cheryl addressed Brendan. She had the good grace to look a little unsettled about that. She surely knew something was amiss.

"We really should go-" Ste began to say but Brendan overrode him.

"Sounds good." he said serenely. "I could do with a drink."

Cheryl beamed with joy. Ste grimaced.

"Perfect! First rounds on me." She led the way, Brendan and Ste trailing behind.

"Why, Brendan?" Ste whispered urgently to him.

"Ye said it yerself, don't let him win."

"That's not quite what I meant!" Ste hissed. "You aren't ready for this."

Brendan turned to him, his expression blank. "I have to. Ye were right, Steven. I won't let him take any more from me."

"Okay." Ste breathed. "I'm here for you."

"No, ye go home." Brendan said, facing ahead again.

"Don't be soft!"

"Chez is here."

"She has no idea! I'm staying, end of."

Brendan gritted his teeth. "Please, Steven."

"Not gonna work." Ste replied. They were inside the club now, their voices drowned out.

Cheryl went to the bar to get them some drinks while Brendan found them a table in the corner where the sound was dulled. Mr Brady sat with a quiet confidence, not looking at them. Ste was glad, he needed a moment to make sure Brendan was up for this.

He didn't look too well; his skin was glossed with a sheen of sweat and his hands were unsteady in his lap. He held himself rigidly, unable to relax. Ste wanted to reach out and soothe him but he knew it wouldn't help in the present company. Instead he leaned forwards to look at Cheryl.

"Looks like she needs help with the drinks." Ste commented and as expected, Mr Brady stood up. He had to be the big man always.

Brendan instantly sagged against the chair.

"You don't have to do this." Ste told him quickly. "We can go right now."

"One drink." Brendan rasped, and he made it sound like a challenge.

Cheryl returned, still beaming. She handed Brendan a whiskey and Ste a cider. Ste wasn't really in the mood for it but he gulped it down anyway, the bitterness of the taste nothing to do with the drink itself.

"So what have you two been up to?" Cheryl asked happily.

Ste glanced at Brendan and shrugged. "We were going for a drink ourselves." he lied.

Cheryl nodded, still smiling. Ste could see the strain in her face. She was really trying here and Ste found himself admiring her strength.

"How was your trip, Cheryl?"

"Oh, lovely, just what I needed." Cheryl replied. "I'm just sorry it came at a time when Da was here but we'd already booked the tickets."

Mr Brady waved a hand dismissively. "It's no problem, sweetheart."

Cheryl blushed a little and turned to Brendan. "You alright, bro? How's the club been ticking over?"

Brendan coughed before he answered. "Better than it was, things are back on track now."

"Oh, was there trouble?" Mr Brady asked, clearly not that interested.

"We had a few financial problems," Cheryl explained. "Especially after we went to Nana's and Brendan got injured, and J-"

"But it's fine now." Brendan interrupted before Cheryl mentioned Joel. Ste had the feeling he at least wanted to protect someone from the gaze of his father.

"We're all having to tighten our belts these days, this economy." Mr Brady said quietly. "And our Bren, well, he's always been a bit tight himself, hasn't he?"

Brendan stiffened and Ste immediately understood the implication. The thought made him sick to his stomach. He felt himself being capitulated into that red haze he always tried to avoid.

"I've always found Brendan to be very generous actually." Ste said through gritted teeth, his hands balled into fists. Mr Brady looked him over serenely.

"I'll bet." he said smoothly.

Brendan grabbed Ste's wrist before he launched himself forwards.

"This has been wonderful, really, but we need to be going now." Brendan said carefully. He tried to sound like himself, indifferent, but he didn't quite manage it.

"Will you be home tonight, Bren?" Cheryl asked, looking upset.

"Where else would he stay?" Mr Brady asked, his eyes glittering.

"I'll be home." Brendan answered her. "Come on, Steven."

They exited swiftly. Brendan practically flew down the steps and once he was outside he promptly threw up.

"Oh, Brendan." Ste whispered, rubbing circles into his back.

"I'm fine." He grunted, straightening.

"You don't have to go home tonight."

"Oh, I do." Brendan said. He looked so defeated, like he was barely holding himself together. "But I'll walk ye home first."

"There's no-"

"Steven." Brendan led the way. Ste sighed and followed him.

It was a quiet walk home. Ste found that he was utterly exhausted. He hadn't quite expected things to pan out this way when he'd invited Brendan over. Brendan popped some gum into his mouth and chewed erratically. Ste offered for him to come in to wash up when they got to his flat. Brendan did so, barely saying a word. Ste waited for him in the kitchen, his foot tapping nervously. Brendan strode towards him and he stood, immediately pulled into Brendan's arms for a long kiss.

"I'm-"

"Don't say it." Ste whispered, closing his eyes. Brendan's hands were on either side of his face and he could still feel the pressure of his lips from moments before.

"I'll come back tomorrow."

"You'd better." Ste said throatily.

Brendan pulled back a little to look into his face. His smile was the most genuine one Ste had ever seen him wear. His eyes crinkled at the corners, the blue sparkling with life.

"I've got ye." Brendan said, barely a murmur. "After everything, ye are still here."

"Well, yeah." Ste laughed. "I love you, you idiot."

Brendan chuckled, kissing him once more. "I love ye too." he breathed, closing his eyes. "I wish I didn't have to leave now."

"Don't then!" Ste wrapped his arms around Brendan's waist, pushing himself not too discreetly against him.

"Steven…" Brendan shifted awkwardly. "Don't…"

Ste trailed his hand down Brendan's spine, causing the older man to bury his face into his shoulder.

"Come on, just stay a minute…" Ste began kissing his neck, his hands reaching underneath Brendan's t-shirt.

"Alright, just one." Brendan kissed him again, harder this time. They found themselves moving backwards to the bedroom, clothes coming off in their wake. Ste collapsed back onto the bed as Brendan towered on top of him. Hands and teeth and tongues found their way onto every inch of skin. Ste groaned, feeling Brendan's erection pressed against his stomach.

"How do ye want this?" Brendan practically growled, his eyes dark with desire. Ste lifted his legs upwards in response, resting them against Brendan's shoulders.

"My favourite." Ste answered, smiling slyly.

It was so easy for them to become lost in the moment. Their sex had always been incredible. Ste didn't think he would ever tire of it. Brendan had a quality about him, masculine and rough, but he also knew when to recede, when to push. There was something wholly desirous about being taken completely, to be filled to the brink of orgasm. To feel cherished, wanted. No, Ste would never tire of this feeling. He would never tire of Brendan.

Cold reality settled in afterwards when Brendan redressed himself, preparing for home. His body had a slight tremor to it, Ste's soothing touch a forgotten dream. Ste looked up at him from beneath the covers, sadness evident on his face.

"Don't look at me like that, Steven."

"I don't want you to go!"

"I'll come back, I have to face this though."

"You're not gonna say anything to him?"

"No. But I'm going to sleep in my own bed, and actually sleep."

Ste smiled tightly at him. "I'm proud of you."

"Don't be yet." Brendan shouldered his jacket on.

Ste climbed across the bed. "Take this." He offered his t-shirt towards him.

"Why?" Brendan asked, puzzled.

"It might help you sleep."

Brendan smiled and leaned over to kiss him goodbye. Once he was gone, Ste slumped back onto the pillows. Brendan might be able to sleep, but Ste wasn't sure he could without him.

Xxx

The lights were dimmed when Brendan arrived home. His father was sitting alone with a glass of whiskey in his hand.

"Ye took yer time."

"Things to do, Da." Brendan made a beeline for the kitchen. His father followed him.

"So… Ste's still hanging around then?"

Ah, straight to the point this time.

Brendan shrugged, getting himself a glass of water.

"Not feeling like a chat, son?"

"I'm going to bed." Brendan said, his voice flat.

"Perhaps I'll join you."

Brendan froze, his back to his father.

"Ah, so he does react."

"Ye are a sick piece of shit." Brendan snarled under his breath.

"Oh and he bites!" His father clapped jovially.

"Sooner ye are out of mine and Chez's lives, the better."

"I go when Cheryl tells me to, and as it so happens, she wants me to stay longer."

Brendan turned around slowly. "What for?"

"I haven't seen my children for some time, it's only natural."

"There's nothing natural about ye."

"Funny ye say that, my boy. That lad of yers, not exactly traditional, is it?"

"What's yer point?"

"Oh ye know my point." His father was close enough now for Brendan to smell the mix of whiskey and cigarette on his breath.

"I don't give a shit what ye think, old man." Brendan took a step back. "Cheryl will see what ye are really like someday and I'll be there to pick up the pieces."

"Brendan the hero, saving loved ones from psychopaths and bullets galore." His father raised an eyebrow. "Cheryl and I talk ye see."

"So do we."

"Only recently I hear. What was it she wanted? Counselling?"

"Yes."

"And did it work?"

"Not quite."

"Never does with ye, does it?"

"And whose fault's that?" Brendan snarled back.

"Ye are still that animal I brought up, needing put in line."

"I'm not that kid anymore, Da. Ye can't bully me."

"We'll see." He smiled, fading back into the shadows. "Sleep tight, son."

Brendan repressed the shudder threatening to ripple through him. He went straight into his bedroom and locked the door behind him.

He climbed into bed, still feeling that odd gurgle in his stomach from threatening sickness. He pulled Steven's t-shirt up to his face, inhaling his scent. He imagined him lying beside him, pressed up against Brendan's chest. It wasn't the easiest sleep to fall into but Brendan kept his mind fixed on Steven; the feel of him, the smell of him, the very essence of him. And eventually, sleep came.


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

When Brendan emerged the next morning, he found Cheryl sitting at the table eating toast. His father was no where to be seen.

"Gone already?" He asked, knowing the answer.

"He's gone for a walk." Cheryl answered, sipping her coffee. "Brendan…" she began cautiously.

"Don't, Chez." Brendan said bluntly, making himself a bowl of cereal. His stomach felt completely empty after last night's binging and sickness.

"I wanted to ask you something." She barrelled on regardless.

"Can't it wait?"

"Well no," She smiled tightly. "I wondered if we should maybe do another counselling session, with Da."

Brendan dropped his spoon into his bowl, appetite gone.

"No." he said dully.

"I think it could really help us as a family, Da's already agreed."

"Ye asked him before ye asked me?" Brendan stood up abruptly.

"Where are you going?"

"Work." Brendan went straight out the door without a backwards glance. His hands were shaking and his stomach was tight. He automatically walked in the direction of the deli. Steven glanced up from the counter, his face lighting up when he spied Brendan and immediately falling when he sensed his mood.

"What's wrong?" He asked, touching Brendan's wrist gently.

"Cheryl, she-"

"She's behind you." Steven whispered urgently. Brendan squared his shoulders, awaiting the onslaught.

"Why did you walk off like that? I was trying to talk to you!" Cheryl demanded, stopping in front of him, arms crossed indignantly.

"I'm not going counselling with _him._"

"Who?" Steven asked in some confusion.

"Our Da." Cheryl explained to him, exasperated.

"No, don't." Steven said quickly. Cheryl looked at him, eyebrows raised.

"Am I missing something here?"

"Trust me, Cheryl. You need to leave it be."

"But don't you think it'd be good for them after fighting for all these years?"

"No, I really don't." Steven answered carefully. He still had a hold of Brendan's wrist, tighter now.

"I don't understand why!" Cheryl looked upset and Brendan felt a wave of guilt rush through him.

"Don't." Steven whispered, as though reading his thoughts.

"Ste could come with us, if it helps?" Cheryl offered, her voice softer now.

"No!" Brendan said, horrified.

Cheryl glanced between the two of them. "He's right there, Bren." she whispered, misunderstanding him.

"That's not it." Brendan waved a hand dismissively. "Ye won't listen so there's no point talking about it."

"I just want to help, Bren! Is that so terrible?"

"Of course not." Brendan looked away. He could feel Steven's eyes on him, wary and sad.

"Why don't we talk about it later? Come to mine, Cheryl. I'll cook." Steven offered.

Brendan felt a wave of gratitude towards him. He gave him a warm smile which Steven returned.

"That's a sensible idea." Cheryl answered, beaming at him. She shot Brendan a suspicious look. "I'll get to the bottom of this, Bren, mark my words."

"I hear ye." Brendan grunted, glancing away as she left the shop. "Thanks, Steven."

"It's no trouble, might do everyone some good." He released Brendan's wrist, picking up a cloth and beginning to wipe the counter. "Are you going to tell her?" He asked very quietly.

"How can I? The sun shines out of his arse for her."

"She loves you, Bren. She'll understand."

"Ye reckon?" Brendan sighed, rubbing his forehead. He felt as though he'd aged twenty years.

"I do. Just let me talk to her first, I'll soften her up a bit."

Brendan raised his eyebrows. "Ye think she'll listen?"

"To me? Of course, she loves me." Steven grinned. "Anyway, I'll make something so delicious neither of you will have the energy to fight. You Brady's are easy to please."

"Watch it." Brendan smirked, leaning across the counter to give him a quick kiss. "I gotta go to work, see ye later."

"Looking forward to it." Steven answered, raising his hand in farewell.

Xxx

Ste went home early to prepare the dinner. He made spaghetti and meatballs and bought a cake from Price Slice for desert. He laid the table out and put a few cans on there. He tidied up the place, thinking he really should redecorate at some point. Soon enough he heard the key in the lock and hurried to the door, jumping on Brendan before he'd even stepped inside.

"Hello to ye too." Brendan murmured, returning his kiss.

"I missed you." Ste curled himself around him as Brendan closed the door.

"Ye too, maybe I can stay here tonight."

"Yeah?" Ste looked up at him hopefully. "I just changed the sheets."

Brendan smirked at him. "Did ye now?"

"They were proper rank." Ste said, untangling himself from Brendan so he could run to the oven.

"I like yer sheets, they smell good."

"They stink." Ste wrinkled up his nose.

"Of ye, so I don't mind." Brendan came up behind him to wrap his arms around his waist.

"Stop distracting me, I'm trying to cook!"

"Is that what I'm doing?" Brendan murmured, kissing along the back of his neck. "Tell me to stop."

"I…" Ste squirmed in his arms, blushing. "Fine, you got me."

"Indeed." Brendan turned him in his arms, drawing him close for a long kiss. "I wish Chez wasn't coming now, I can think of several things I'd rather be doing."

"Don't be mean, you. She's your sister!"

"She'd understand."

"What, you're going to tell her you'd rather have a shag with your boyfriend than eat with her?"

"Boyfriend is it? Under the thumb already, am I?"

"You know it."

Brendan shrugged, unable to argue with that. The door went then and Brendan sighed, stepping back from Ste.

"I'll get it."

Ste smiled, feeling a warmth in his stomach. It was so natural now, this thing they shared. He really felt as though they were finally on track. Of course Ste should have realised how easily things could go wrong.

"Chez…" Brendan's voice sounded funny. Ste whipped his head around, smile still in place. It faded when he realised the disturbance. Cheryl had brought her father along.

"You said to come to dinner so we could talk." Cheryl said, confused.

"We meant-" Ste began but Brendan gave him a warning look. "Well, plenty for everyone I suppose." Ste felt a shiver up his spine at the way Mr Brady was sneering at him. Brendan spent longer than was strictly necessary closing the door as Cheryl and her father sat at the table.

Mr Brady picked up one of the cans and eyed it warily. "Got any wine?"

"Uhh," Ste grabbed another plate, laying it on the table. "No."

"Luckily I brought my own." His brandished a bottle of red wine like it was a weapon. "Get us some glasses, eh?"

Ste refrained from rolling his eyes and did as he was told. Brendan was in the kitchen, his eyes unfocused, chewing his fingernail.

"Will you be alright?" Ste whispered.

Brendan gave the briefest of nods. "Let's just get this over with." he murmured.

Ste followed him to the table, placing the glasses in front of Cheryl and Mr Brady. He and Brendan took a can each.

"Slumming it a bit aren't we, son?" Mr Brady said scathingly, looking around at Ste's home.

"Da!" Cheryl reprimanded.

"It's fine, Cheryl. Not all of us have that much money to spare."

"My son does though, surely he should be taking care of you?" Mr Brady asked.

"I take care of myself, thanks." Ste said coldly.

"Steven." Brendan warned. "Let me help ye get the food."

"Yes what are we having?"

"Spaghetti and meatballs." Ste answered.

"Ooh, lovely!" Cheryl grinned, answering that little bit too loudly.

"Meatballs? Should have known." Mr Brady muttered.

"What's yer point?" Brendan said abruptly. His patience was wearing thin. Ste could feel the tension rolling off of him in waves.

Mr Brady splayed his hands before him. "No point, son. Just a joke."

"Hilarious." Brendan replied bitterly.

"Brendan, come on, he didn't mean it like that!" Cheryl said, her voice fearful.

"Didn't he?"

Ste pulled his arm gently. "Come on, Bren. Let's get the food."

Mr Brady however had already stood up. "Ye got something to say, son?"

"Maybe." Brendan straightened himself to his full height, which was a head taller than Mr Brady.

"Let's hear it then."

"Please can we just-" Cheryl began but Brendan cut her off.

"Isn't this what ye wanted, sis? For us to talk?"

"Not like this!" Cheryl said, upset.

"This isn't helping anyone." Ste said quietly. "Can we just eat?"

"Listen to yer fancy man, Brendan. Maybe he's not all about the looks."

"What did ye say?" Brendan seethed, his hands balling into fists.

"Well he certainly hasn't got by on his brains, has he? We always knew ye couldn't resist a pretty face."

Brendan knocked the table out of the way in his haste to get to Mr Brady. Cheryl screeched, running to cover her father. Ste made a grab for Brendan but was unsuccessful.

"SAY THAT AGAIN!" Brendan roared, grabbing his father by his shirt.

"Calm down, son! I didn't mean anything by it."

"YES YE DID!" Brendan threw him to the ground. Cheryl ran to squat beside him, shielding him from Brendan.

"Stop it, Brendan! You might hurt him!"

"Hurt him? Like he hurt me ye mean?"

"Brendan, I don't-"

"Why can't ye see what a monster he is?"

"Takes one to know one, son." Brendan lurched towards him again but Ste grabbed his arm.

"Please, Bren. Don't do this. I think you'd better take your dad and leave, Cheryl."

"Not until I get some answers!" Cheryl stood up, helping Mr Brady to stand also. "What do you mean he hurt you, Brendan?"

"Don't ye remember the marks, Chez?"

"Well yes, you got into a lot of fights when you were young-"

"Yeah, with him!"

"I don't understand." Cheryl shook her head, upset. "Why?"

"Why?" Brendan's voice failed him. He'd gotten to the point where he couldn't continue. Ste sensed Mr Brady's relief, and his smugness. He despised him for it. He hated the fact that he'd destroyed Brendan's life before it had even begun, had moulded the man beside him who had once been filled with such self-loathing and hatred that he'd lashed out at the people he loved. Ste felt that familiar bubbling anger rise in him which only intensified as Mr Brady turned his gaze towards him, his smile cold and indescribably evil.

Ste found himself launching himself at him, clawing at him in a bid to find soft flesh to pummel. Brendan grabbed him around the middle, pulling him away.

"YOU'RE SICK!" Ste screamed. "IT'S YOUR FAULT! YOU DID THIS!"

"Ste!" Cheryl was crying now, helping Brendan restrain him. "Please somebody tell me what's going on!"

Ste stilled in Brendan's arms. Brendan looked at his sister, at Ste, at his father. He was extremely pale. He held Ste tighter as the next words came out of him, barely a whisper.

"He raped me."

The whole room descended into chaos at those three words. Cheryl screamed in disbelief and agony, Mr Brady shouted above her, calling Brendan a liar and a freak. Ste felt silent tears trickle down his face. Brendan was shaking around him but he didn't let go. He drew strength from Ste's presence and Ste wasn't going to leave his side.

"Please, why would you say that?" Cheryl begged, sinking to her knees.

"It's true." Brendan said, his voice dull. "He did it."

"In yer dreams maybe!" Mr Brady rasped. Ste could see now how affected he was. His face was a red blotchy colour. He looked worse than Brendan, if that were possible.

"In my dreams? Do ye mean the sleep I never got, waiting for ye to get me?" Brendan said, his voice very quiet. Cheryl sobbed at his words.

"No, it can't be true!"

"Cheryl," Ste said gently. "It's true, he told me."

"And she's gonna believe the likes of you two over her own father?" Mr Brady bellowed.

"What do you mean, Da? The likes of them?"

"GAYS!" Mr Brady shouted. "IT'S AN ABOMINATION! IT'S SICK!"

"Is that why ye did it?"

"I didn't! And even if I had, maybe it was to stop whatever perverse thoughts were going through yer mind!"

"I WAS EIGHT YEARS OLD, DA! I DIDN'T KNOW WHO I WAS. ALL I KNEW WAS THAT MY DAD DESPISED ME AND DID THESE TERRIBLE THINGS AND NO ONE DID ANYTHING ABOUT IT!"

"Did Nana know?" Cheryl asked quietly. Brendan deflated, the strangest look crossing his face.

"Yes." he answered and Cheryl near collapsed. Ste rushed forwards to steady her.

"There's nothing to know! He's lying!"

"Just admit it!" Ste screamed at him, holding a sobbing Cheryl to his chest. "Be a man, own up."

"I'm not taking advice from the likes of ye!" Mr Brady was really losing it now. He made a beeline for Ste, pure rage in his expression. Brendan made a grab for him, tackling him to the ground.

"YE LEAVE STEVEN ALONE! DON'T EVER TOUCH HIM!"

"I'll do what I fucking please!" Mr Brady struggled to get Brendan's weight off of him. He started to gasp, barely able to breathe. "My arm, ye crushed it! It hurts!" His eyes starting to roll into the back of his head.

"Fucking piece of shit." Brendan stood, spitting on him. He took one look at Cheryl's distraught face, begging him with her eyes to say it wasn't true, and ran for the door.

"Brendan!" Ste tried to run after him but then Cheryl was screaming again.

"He's having a heart attack!" She was crouched over Mr Brady.

Ste stood in the middle of the room, frozen into inaction.


	7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

"Ste! _Do_ something!" Cheryl screamed at him.

Ste hesitated for about one more second before he grabbed his phone off the counter and called for an ambulance.

"I don't know if he's breathing." Cheryl said, her voice raspy with the numerous tears she'd already shed.

"Maybe that's not a bad thing." Ste said darkly.

Cheryl looked up at him, wide-eyed and terrified. "It can't be true, Ste. It just can't be!"

"Cheryl," Ste bent down to her level, holding her by the shoulders. "You have to be strong, okay? Wait until the ambulance arrives and they've taken him, then we can talk."

"But I have to go with him!" Cheryl sobbed.

"Why?" Ste could still feel the tremors in his body threatening to push him over the edge.

"He's still my dad!" Cheryl collapsed over his prone form, crying herself into a state. Ste remembered the last time he'd seen her like this, with Lynsey. He placed a tentative hand on her shoulder.

Thankfully the ambulance arrived swiftly. Brendan came through the door at the same time; frantically searching out Ste.

"Thank God," he breathed, taking Ste into his arms. "I thought the worst. I was only outside."

"It's your dad, Brendan. He's had a heart attack."

Brendan didn't take his eyes off of Ste as he spoke. "Ye aren't hurt though?"

"No it happened right after you ran out." Ste explained, feeling dazed. Brendan's grip on him was growing ever tighter.

"Cheryl?" Brendan looked across the room. Cheryl was sitting with a blanket over her shoulders which one of the paramedics had given her. Brendan hesitated in moving towards her.

"Let me." Ste whispered. With difficulty he extricated himself from Brendan's arms. Before he'd even taken a step forwards however he felt a hand enclose around his wrist.

"I'm sorry, Steven."

"What for?" Ste asked incredulously.

"Running out like that, leaving ye with him."

Ste ran his hand gently across Brendan's forearm. "It's okay, I get it. When the paramedics are gone we'll go straight to bed and sleep."

Brendan looked unsure. "We can't leave Chez."

Ste sighed. "You're right. But can you handle going to hospital with him?"

They had already placed Mr Brady on a stretcher. Brendan took a moment to stare at him, his face unreadable. He turned back to Ste slowly.

"Anything for Cheryl."

Ste smiled tightly and went over to her.

"Cheryl? What have they said?"

"Sounds like a heart attack. He's breathing, barely." She answered in hardly more than a whisper.

"Are you still going to the hospital?"

Cheryl nodded numbly.

"We'll take you." Ste offered, glancing over at Brendan. Cheryl eyed him warily. "Cheryl?"

Without warning, Cheryl launched herself in Brendan's direction. Ste attempted to grab her but he wasn't quick enough. She found her target, hitting Brendan's chest with her fists. He stood there and took it, barely moving. She cried hysterically and shouted at him repeatedly. Eventually Brendan wrapped his arms around her and held her close. Cheryl sagged against him and allowed herself to be held. Ste noted the tears coming down Brendan's face and his chest tightened. He had to look after them now.

"Come on you two, let's go." He whispered softly, placing an arm around the entwined siblings. When they let go of each other Ste took a hand each and led them outside.

Xxx

Brendan sat in the waiting room, his leg bouncing constantly. Steven sat beside him, nursing a coffee that had already turned cold. Cheryl was speaking to the doctor. She came back with red-rimmed eyes and a pinched expression.

"He's going to be okay," She said softly. "He's asleep right now."

Brendan said nothing. He glanced at Steven who stared silently back at him.

"We should talk." Brendan said hoarsely. Cheryl flinched. She was still unsure what to feel, that was for certain.

"I'll give you some privacy." Steven whispered.

"No." Brendan placed a hand on his leg. "Please stay."

For some reason he didn't want to let Steven out of his sight. He felt a sense of crushing guilt over leaving him alone with his father like that. He couldn't stop imagining all of the terrible things that could have happened if his father hadn't had a heart attack.

"Alright." Steven smiled at him reassuringly, taking his hand. He loved all that. Brendan straightened. He was still getting used to all this public business.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "What do ye wanna ask?"

"So much," Cheryl breathed, giving an airy sort of laugh that made her sound near hysterical. "But we can't talk here."

"Why don't we go home for a bit? If he's asleep…" Steven suggested.

Brendan braced himself, awaiting Cheryl's response.

"Sure." She said weakly. "I'll let the doctors know to call us if anything happens."

The ride home was pure silence. Brendan didn't let go of Steven's hand, even when he was driving. When they got home, Brendan felt as though he could breathe freely again with the knowledge that his father wasn't there. Cheryl sat down heavily on the sofa and Brendan sat beside her.

"I'll go make us some coffee." Steven offered awkwardly.

Brendan followed him with his eyes to the kitchen and then turned his attention back to Cheryl who was watching him carefully.

"You really love him, don't you?"

Brendan bowed his head. "More than I ever thought possible."

"Don't mess it up, Bren. That boy adores the bones of you."

"I know." Brendan said, feeling his heart swell.

Cheryl began to cry silently. Brendan placed his hand over her own and squeezed gently.

"I'm sorry, sis."

"It's true, isn't it?"

Brendan nodded, trying to keep himself together for Cheryl's sake.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Ye loved him, what could I do?"

"I love _you, _you're my brother." Cheryl answered intensely. "Did Ma know?"

"Sis-"

"Nana knew…" Cheryl stared off into the middle distance. "How could she do that to you… how could she not say anything?"

"I don't know." Brendan replied, curling in on himself.

"How did I not _see_?" She wiped at the tears on her face. "I knew something wasn't right with you two, I always knew that."

"How could ye know?" Brendan reassured her quietly.

Cheryl looked at him sharply then. "Did it happen more than once?"

"I don't… I can't talk about it." Brendan said, bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around his legs.

"Please, Brendan I need to understand."

"Cheryl," Steven had appeared with their coffee. "Give him time, yeah?"

Cheryl nodded, taking her coffee from Steven. "Of course, I'm sorry." She looked at Brendan with absolute misery. "I'm so sorry."

Brendan rested his forehead against his knees taking deep, shuddering breaths. He felt two bodies pressed against him from either side, Cheryl and Steven embracing him together. For the very first time, Brendan felt safe.

Xxx

Cheryl fell asleep on the sofa; she looked exhausted from the night's events. Brendan pulled a blanket over her and gestured to Ste that they go to his bedroom. When the door was closed Brendan gathered him into his arms, holding him tightly without restraint. His body began to shake with sobs and Ste wrapped his arms tighter around his neck, clinging to him.

"Shh, it's okay." He soothed, stroking the back of Brendan's neck. He was on his tiptoes to reach. Brendan held him around the waist, their bodies pressed together.

"I need ye to stay with me tonight." Brendan pleaded, pulling back to hold Ste's face in his hands.

"Okay," Ste said croakily. "But we should probably just sleep you know."

Brendan laughed a little breathlessly. "Why's that?"

"Because I'd be taking advantage." Ste said, sighing.

Brendan openly smiled then, the tears drying on his face. It was a haunting yet beautiful image. "Maybe I want to be taken advantage of."

"Brendan…"

"Come on." Brendan curved his hand underneath Ste's chin.

Ste leaned towards him as if pulled by gravity. Their lips met and that was that. Ste was lifted up to wrap his legs around Brendan's waist and they collapsed back onto the bed.

It was a lot more tender than usual. Ste felt absolutely cherished. Each touch sent goosebumps over his skin and made his breath catch in his throat. Brendan couldn't take his eyes off of him and when they climaxed Ste's hips rose from the bed to meet Brendan's final thrust as though they were in tune to each other's bodies.

"I love ye." Brendan breathed, collecting himself.

"I love you too." Ste smiled, pulling him down to lie on top of him.

Brendan played with a strand of Ste's hair, silent for a while. Ste didn't know what to say to him. Eventually he blurted out the only thing he could think of.

"Will he die?"

Brendan's hand froze. He rolled off of Ste to lay beside him, pulling Ste towards him.

"I don't know, Steven." He admitted.

"Do you want him to?" Ste asked, holding his breath for Brendan's response.

He knew Brendan had a dark side, knew it better than anyone. He remembered Danny and how Brendan had murdered him, for Ste. Sometimes that side of Brendan terrified Ste, even when he lay beside him like this. But the uncomfortable truth was that it didn't stop Ste from loving him regardless. He knew Brendan would do absolutely anything for him, to the detriment of his own safety and well-being. He knew that no one had ever loved him like Brendan did. He knew no one else ever would.

And so when he asked Brendan that question, he was prepared for the answer and it didn't faze him. He understood the pain within the man beside him. He knew from his own experiences how hatred could fester and grow. How sometimes people couldn't be forgiven for their sins.

"Yes, I hope he dies," Brendan said quietly. "But I want to speak to him first, if he does."

"Why?"

"I need to understand why I'm like this, how he made me like this. I need to get past it."

"You _are_." Ste insisted, laying his head on Brendan's chest. "I believe in you."

Brendan chuckled softly. "And I love ye for that, but it's not enough. I need to know I can change, I need to… take the power back."

Ste considered this carefully. "You need to do this alone?"

"Yes."

"That isn't going to be easy for me."

"I know. But do ye trust me?"

Brendan turned to look at him, his blue eyes intense.

"Of course I do." Ste said, feeling a shiver up his spine.

"I wouldn't blame ye if ye didn't." Brendan said quietly.

"Well tough, because I do."

"Okay." Brendan nodded, pushing their foreheads together. "Listen, me and you… this is for good, right?"

"Brendan, how can you ask that?"

"I just couldn't take it if something happened to ye, if ye went away."

"Brendan… I won't, I'm here." Ste shuffled even closer, kissing Brendan gently on the lips.

"I know I can be insufferable on a regular basis-"

"Understatement of the century." Ste muttered under his breath, smiling.

"And I know I eat too much, sleep too heavily, I steal the covers, I-"

"Sometimes you lay on top of me in the night." Ste revealed, smirking. "And you're pretty heavy to push off you know."

"Yes, okay. Sorry. I'm just saying… I appreciate ye, ye know… staying."

Ste rolled his eyes. "Don't do that. You know I love you. Why would I be here otherwise? Start believing in yourself otherwise you'll never get anywhere, will ya?"

"Alright." Brendan breathed, closing his eyes and placing his hand on the back of Ste's head which was once more resting on his chest.

"I will come with you tomorrow, by the way. I'll wait outside."

"Thank ye."

"What about Cheryl?"

Brendan sighed, pulling Ste tighter against him. "I don't know how she'll feel about seeing him."

"Closure is important." Ste said wisely. "But… what if he lives?"

Brendan was silent for a moment.

"I don't think I can answer that question."

Ste felt a shiver run through him but he nodded, holding Brendan close.


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Cheryl sat numbly on the living room sofa. The hospital had called earlier that morning. There had been complications over night. Cheryl needed to go down there but she was finding it increasingly difficult to move herself from the position she was frozen in. Brendan emerged from his bedroom first. She knew Ste had stayed the night. She was a little glad for that, but it didn't stop her thinking of the million questions she wanted to ask so desperately, but she didn't know if the answers were something she could bear to hear.

"Bren," She began, her voice hoarse from the emotion of the day before. "The hospital called."

"Good, I'm going down there." Brendan grabbed three mugs out of the cupboard.

"You are?" Cheryl asked incredulously. "Why?"

Brendan didn't turn to face her as he turned the kettle on. "I have things I need to say."

"Is that such a good idea?"

"I've waited over twenty years for this, Chez. I need to be able to let this go… as well as I can anyway."

Cheryl swallowed thickly. "I'll come with you."

"Steven already is."

"I'm not sure Ste should be near Da."

Brendan paused then, turning to her. "Ye reckon?"

"Well, he doesn't seem to like him."

"I wonder why."

Cheryl felt herself shudder with wondering. "He's better off out of it, Bren. He doesn't need to be dragged into our family dramas."

Brendan turned around fully now, cocking an eyebrow. "That's one thing to call it."

"You know what I mean." Cheryl blushed, a little ashamed at her blasé manner. "I just think he'd be safer out of it."

That struck a cord with Brendan. His expression changed to one Cheryl knew all too well; defensive and resolute.

"How do I stop him from coming though?"

"Leave that to me, love." Cheryl picked herself up off of the sofa with difficulty. "You take a shower, I'll call you down when we're done."

Brendan nodded, moving to kiss her cheek but hesitating, as though afraid to touch her. Cheryl closed the distance between them without her usual ease, but she daren't let Brendan see that. It wasn't because of him, she told herself firmly, it was just a lot to take in. Everything she thought she knew about her family was a huge lie. She didn't know what to feel anymore or who to trust.

At that moment, Ste emerged from the bedroom, his hair sticking up in several directions and rubbing at his eyes tiredly.

"Where's Bren?" He yawned, sitting at the kitchen table.

"Shower." Cheryl explained. "Did you want any breakfast?"

Ste shook his head, holding his stomach. "I haven't had much of an appetite lately. Not since-" He shook his head, frowning. "I've been trying to keep it from Brendan though. You know how he worries."

"Yeah," Cheryl sighed, sitting beside him and taking his hand. She was suddenly intensely grateful for Ste. For someone she could be natural with and know how to touch and speak to. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about actually."

"What is it?" Ste asked, concern already lacing his voice.

"I think you should let me and Brendan go to the hospital today, alone."

Ste seemed to be letting those words settle in. His expression was indefinable.

"Brendan agrees?"

"Yes, love. He only wants what is best for you."

"He said I could though." Ste said, a tad haughtily.

"I suggested it to him." Cheryl explained. "I just don't want you too wrapped up in all of this."

"I see." Ste gritted his teeth.

"Don't take it the wrong way! I'm doing this to protect you."

"Right." Ste stood up abruptly.

"Where are you going?"

"Home." He said bluntly, moving towards the front door.

"No, please! Brendan will be so upset."

Ste paused then. "Tell him… I'll be at home if he needs me."

"Ste!"

Ste was out the door in a heartbeat, slamming it after him. Cheryl stared after him helplessly. Brendan came down the stairs, towel around his waist.

"Where's Steven?"

Cheryl was beginning to wonder how much worse things could get.

Xxx

Brendan dressed himself as quickly as possible, flying out the door soon after with Cheryl hot on his heels.

"I'm sorry!" She wailed. "I didn't think he'd take it that way!"

"It's just the way he is." Brendan said hastily, jogging in his haste to get to Steven's.

"Why are we running?"

"Ye don't understand what he might do." Brendan said, confusing even himself. What _would_ Steven do?

"What are you talking about?" Cheryl panted, struggling to keep up.

"If he isn't at the flat…" Brendan didn't want to finish that sentence.

"But he said he would be!"

Brendan was intensely grateful that he had a key to Steven's. He swung the door open without ceremony and swiftly scanned the flat. It was empty.

"Fuck it!" He cursed, almost knocking Cheryl over in his haste to get out of the door.

"Where is he?" Cheryl asked, somewhat meekly.

"Where do ye think?" Brendan growled, his heart going a mile a minute.

"Oh no…" Cheryl could barely catch her breath, the dread evident in her voice.

"Come on!" Brendan called over his shoulder, urging her to keep up.

"You don't know for sure!"

"I know Steven." Brendan said confidently. "If someone tells him not to do something, he's sure as hell gonna do it twice as much."

"I shouldn't have said anything." Cheryl said, clearly upset.

"It's my fault." Brendan said, not slowing his pace. He was in his car in what seemed like no time at all. Cheryl climbed in beside him, the engine roaring to life around them.

"Da's not in a good way, Bren." Cheryl warned.

"And?"

"And I'm begging you, don't send him over the edge."

Brendan turned to her, incredulous. "After everything I've told ye?"

"I don't want his blood on your hands! You're more than that!" Cheryl pleaded with him. "Don't sink to his sick level, otherwise he really has won."

This gave Brendan new food for thought but he didn't have long to consider it, so focused was his attention on Steven's whereabouts.

Xxx

Ste hated hospitals. He hated the smell of them, the hushed whispers of the staff. He hated that he was visiting a patient he truly wanted dead and he wondered to himself if that made him a bad person, and then decided he didn't care.

He pushed open the door to Mr Brady's room and moved inside silently. He was hooked up to several machines, one of which was a heart monitor. Ste watched the rate of his heart as it moved lower then higher with what seemed like each breath. He pulled up a chair beside him, hoping that he was awake for this. Evidently, he was.

"Boy." He muttered weakly. "What do ye want?"

"Can't I pay you a friendly visit?" Ste replied with a confidence he didn't possess.

"Depends on the subject matter of said visit." Mr Brady said darkly.

Ste stood up to pull the curtains around them, for privacy. "Your son of course."

"Ah." Mr Brady's eyes closed for a moment. "How is my lad?"

"He's fine. He hopes you die."

Mr Brady didn't look particularly surprised by this. "Is that right?"

"Can you blame him?"

Mr Brady shrugged. "That boy always had darkness inside of him." he said, suppressing a cough.

"Did he? Or did you put it there?" Ste asked, his tone more than a little provocative.

Mr Brady smiled nastily. "Poor choice of words there, boy."

"It was intended." Ste said, stony-faced.

"What do ye want with me?"

"I want you to release whatever hold it is you have over Brendan."

Mr Brady chuckled darkly. "Not down to me, boy. If Brendan carries that around with him, nothing I can do about it."

"So you admit it then?" Ste asked incredulously. "You raped him?"

"Rape is such an ugly word." Mr Brady said mildly.

"What else would you call it?" Ste asked, swallowing unevenly.

"Ye don't really want the answer to that question." Mr Brady said, giving him a stern look.

"No, I don't really. I don't tend to get inside the heads of men like you."

"Is that so?"

Ste frowned at him. "Brendan isn't anything like you."

"No? Violent, manipulative, untrusting, abusive…"

Ste shook his head mutely. "It isn't… it isn't what you're making it out to be."

"Abuse is abuse, Steven."

"Don't call me that." Ste said harshly. "Only Brendan calls me that."

"Ah, yes. My son and his mannerisms. He was always so stuck in his ways, ye know that? He would never listen, that one."

Ste suppressed a shudder. "You need to leave him alone now."

"Well I'm in here, aren't I?"

"Depends if you die."

"I don't plan to." Mr Brady said, his dark eyes glittering.

Ste's jaw tightened. "Brendan might kill you."

"Ye think so? I'm not sure he's got it in him."

Ste gave a hollow sort of laugh. "You really don't know your son."

Mr Brady looked disarmed for a moment. It wasn't much, but Ste felt a small surge of triumph. He played on it.

"That's the thing isn't it? You really don't know him. You see him as this disease, this vessel. Something you get to have a piece of because of what you did to him. But you don't. Do you wanna know why? Because no matter what Brendan's done in the past, he's trying to change, and that's more than you'd ever do."

"A leopard can't change its spots."

"Brendan will." Ste said confidently. "He's ten times the man you'll ever be."

"Spoken like a man in love." Mr Brady said sardonically. "Does it kill you inside, that I claimed him first?"

Ste baulked at that. It was a horrifying insinuation. "It isn't the same."

"Not to you, no. But he'll always be my son, my blood. Always a part of me, and me of him. What bond can you claim?"

"We love each other." Ste said, his voice wavering despite himself.

Mr Brady smiled at that. "Ye don't know love, boy."

Ste's eyebrows shot up. That had been a mistake.

He stood up, quiet and purposeful. He gripped the attachment in Mr Brady's arm tightly.

"I could end your life if I wanted to, don't be under any false allusions." He said quietly, voice pure venom. "I'm not weak. I've been pushed around and bullied my entire life, even had a part in it myself. I may not be big and strong like other men but I have something you'll never have. Love. People who love me and I love them. My kids, Cheryl, Brendan. You may think you own a piece of him in some sick, twisted universe but you'll never have him like I do. You'll never have his love, and that-" Ste tightened his grip and Mr Brady's eyes bulged. "Is why your 'claim' is dead, just like you'll be."

"Steven!" Brendan stormed into the room, grabbing Ste around the middle and hoisting him away from Mr Brady. "What are ye doing?!"

Ste's eyes were wide, his breathing ragged. "I'm gonna kill him if you don't take me outside this second."

Brendan didn't even hesitate as he pulled him out of the door. Cheryl was leaning against the wall, breathing heavily.

"Ste?" She asked hesitantly, reaching for him.

"You were wrong to say I couldn't come here, Cheryl. I understand why, you want to protect me from this, keep it between you. But don't you get it? I _love _him. Whatever dark path he goes on, I follow. And it goes both ways."

"I'm sorry." Cheryl sobbed, collapsing onto the floor in a heap. Brendan bent down to hold her and Ste, deflated from the adrenaline that had been pumping through him, collapsed with them.

"I don't want you to cry." Ste said softly. "This is just something I knew I had to do."

Brendan pulled him tight against him suddenly. Ste hadn't realised how wild he truly looked.

"Don't ever do that to me again." Brendan said, his voice shaky and broken.

"It's out of my system, I promise."

Brendan nodded against him, not letting go.

"Did it help? Confronting him?" Cheryl asked quietly.

"Yes and no." Ste breathed uneasily. "But if he does die, I think you owe it to yourselves to have one final word."

"Ye don't need to tell me that." Brendan said, straightening and leaving Ste and Cheryl huddled together on the floor. "It's my turn to talk to Daddy Dearest."


	9. Chapter Nine

A/N: Final chapter! Thank you so much for reading :)

Chapter Nine

"Wait!" Steven stood up, reaching for Brendan. "Maybe you shouldn't just yet."

"Why not?"

"Look at yourself, Bren." Cheryl said quietly; Steven was helping her to her feet.

Brendan glanced at his reflection in the glass. He looked haunted; pale and drawn. He was shaking violently.

"I was just so scared…" Brendan breathed, clutching one of the hospital chairs for support. Steven came up to him, placing a hand on his arm.

"Let's go somewhere quiet to calm down a bit, yeah?"

"Alright." Brendan agreed, allowing Steven to steer him away. "Chez?"

"I need some air." She said quietly, giving a strained sort of smile.

Before Brendan could protest, she'd walked away from them. Brendan stared after her numbly.

"She's not right." He said croakily.

"She'll need you when all this is over." Steven said softly, guiding him into an empty room.

"Will it be over?"

"Of course it will." Steven said firmly, pushing him down to sit on the edge of the bed.

"How?" Brendan asked, not really expecting an answer. He wanted someone to tell him what to do. To tell him how to make his sister okay, how to confront his father. Steven sat beside him on the bed, his presence a warmth in itself.

"You'll find a way," Steven said quietly. "And your father isn't a well man, so who knows-"

"Ye think he will die?" Brendan turned to him. Steven shrugged apologetically.

"I'm no doctor but he didn't seem right."

Brendan bowed his head. "He'll probably outlive me."

Steven let out a strangled sort of cry at his words.

"I'm sorry," Brendan soothed, pulling him in close to his side. "I didn't mean to scare ye."

"It's okay," Steven said shakily. "Just the idea of anything happening to you…"

"Likewise," Brendan smiled uneasily. "When I realised where ye had gone, I think I stopped breathing."

"I shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry."

"Ye told Cheryl ye were going home."

"I know, and I did. But then I got to thinking…"

"About?"

"You shouldn't have to do everything alone, you know?"

"Some might say I deserve it."

Steven shook his head sadly. "I just hate the idea of someone making you that unhappy. You're Brendan Brady, no one's supposed to get the better of you."

Brendan smiled a little at that. "We all have our weaknesses, Steven."

"You reckon?" Steven looked sceptical.

"Well, ye already know mine."

"Your sons, of course."

"Naturally. But who did Walker go after? And Danny? Warren?" Brendan inclined his head.

"I'm a weakness?" Steven asked, confused.

"Ye are _my _weakness."

"Why though?"

"Because of how much I love ye." Brendan said frankly. "And love is weakness."

"It's not," Steven shook his head resolutely. "Love is power. Those who can't love are nothing."

Brendan studied him carefully. "Is that what ye told my father?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Sometimes I forget how clever ye are."

"Me?" Steven looked incredulous. "I'm not clever."

"Ye are, ye just don't realise it." Brendan looked ahead again, clasping his hands in front of him. "I have to go in there soon."

"I could come with you?"

"I need to do it alone."

"I understand." Steven said softly. "But I'll be here afterwards, if you need me."

"I just hope Cheryl will be here too…" Brendan trailed off.

"I'm sure she will be." Steven said reassuringly.

"How did we get here, Steven?" Brendan asked suddenly. "I never would have believed it, a few years ago."

"When you met me?"

Brendan nodded. "I wish I'd known then how important ye were. But I suppose I did, and that's why I…" Brendan trailed off, frowning.

"You aren't like him." Steven said firmly. Brendan wasn't sure if it was for his benefit or Steven's.

"Will ye tell me someday what ye and my father spoke about?"

"Maybe, not now though." Steven said with a sigh.

"Alright." Brendan took a deep breath, standing up. Steven did the same. He hesitated over whether to touch Brendan so Brendan decided for him, drawing him in to his chest. "When this is all over, we'll go away for a few days."

"Dublin?" Steven asked hopefully.

Brendan laughed throatily. "If ye like. Cheryl too."

"She'll need it." Steven agreed, holding on tight. "I love you."

Brendan kissed the top of his head, his lips lingering in his hair a moment longer.

Xxx

It was a surreal moment, walking through that hospital room door. His father was hooked up to all sorts of machines. He looked terrible. Brendan had only caught a glimpse of him before when he'd pulled Steven out of the room. Now he could look carefully at the man before him.

His father stared back at him blankly. Brendan pulled himself up that little bit straighter.

"Son…" he said, his voice weak.

Brendan stood over the bed. "Steven gave ye quite a scare."

"That little scrote." His father hissed. "Should be locked up."

"Bit rich, coming from ye." Brendan pointed out.

"Ye still singing from that hymn sheet?" His father said, an evil smile gracing his lips.

"It's just me and you, Da. Ye don't have to pretend."

His father's smile faded. He looked Brendan right in the eye. "I know exactly what I did to ye, son."

Brendan let out a breath. His father had never admitted it to his face before.

"Tell me why." Brendan said, his voice hollow.

"I can't do that."

"Ye owe me that much," Brendan said harshly. He was horrified to discover tears in his eyes.

"There's no way to explain it," His father said, looking away from him. "Why did ye beat Steven?" He asked suddenly, disarming Brendan.

Brendan stared at his father incredulously. "There's no _why _about it."

His father nodded, as though he had expected that answer.

"What ye did was planned, calculated… ye waited till Cheryl wasn't there. When we were alone."

"That's true."

"Nana knew what ye did."

His father looked at him levelly. "I didn't know that."

Brendan snorted, his hands gripping the bedcovers tightly. "I killed her."

He heard his father draw in a sharp breath. "Ye did what?"

"I suffocated her." Brendan said, his voice blank.

"Monster…" his father breathed, eyes wide and disbelieving.

"I am what ye made me, Da." Brendan raised his head to look at him.

"Ye were always a wrong-un. I knew that the day ye were born."

"No, Da. I was innocent. Just an eight year old boy. I still played as superman for fucks sake."

"And look at ye now…" his father looked him over disapprovingly. "With yer little boyfriend."

"Steven's ten times the man ye will ever be."

"Funny. That's what he said about ye."

Brendan bowed his head. "Yer words can't hurt me anymore."

"Ye reckon?" His father smiled again. His voice was beginning to fail him. Brendan tensed. "Do ye think yer sister will ever look at ye the same way again? Ye will repulse her. She'll hardly want to touch ye after this."

"That's not true." Brendan said sharply. But even as he said it he remembered her tension with him this morning even though she thought he hadn't noticed.

"Yer sister is a kind soul," his father continued. "But she can't deal with something like this. She needs someone to worship, and can that really be _you_? After everything ye have done?"

"She's stronger than ye think." Brendan said bitterly.

"Ye reckon?"

Brendan glanced towards the door. He knew Steven was outside waiting for him no matter what happened. But Cheryl? Brendan desperately wanted to believe they could get past this.

"Ye are gonna die alone, old man." Brendan said quietly.

His father scoffed, turning away. He didn't look well at all.

"Look at me!" Brendan shouted suddenly, grabbing his collar. "Ye need to listen to this. I won't let ye dictate my entire life, not anymore. I'm gonna be better, for my boys, for Steven, for Cheryl and ye won't be around to see it."

"Ye gonna kill me, son?" His gaze was unafraid. He almost seemed to welcome the possibility.

"Ye aren't worth it. I'm more than that now."

"Oh yeah? And who told ye that?"

"I did." Said a voice from the doorway. Brendan spun around, relief flooding through him as he saw Cheryl standing there.

"Cheryl." His father breathed, holding out his hand. Cheryl stepped forwards, her face set. She took his hand.

"You're cold." She said wonderingly.

"I'm not well, sweetheart." His father breathed. "Listen, I don't know if ye believe all he's told ye but-"

"Don't lie to her now, Da."

"I wasn't going to." His father growled. "But I'm yer father, ye love me."

Cheryl's expression was stony. Brendan had never seen her so reserved.

"When Malachy died, and Steph and our Lynsey. Do you know who was there for me? Brendan. When I was at my lowest point, so disappointed with him, for good reason I might add, I stood by him because I saw something good in him. I believed in him. I know he can do better if he just _tries. _But you Da? You're a monster. There's nothing you can say to me to make me feel any differently. And even if I hadn't found out, if it came down to a choice between you and my big brother, I'd still choose him. Because no matter what's happened between us, we're family. And you stand by your family no matter what." Cheryl released his hand. It flopped pathetically onto the bedcovers.

"I'm not going to make it." His father rasped. "This is yer last chance."

"Goodbye, Da." Cheryl said quietly. "I hope you burn in hell." She turned her back on him, leaving the room.

Brendan chanced a glance at his dwindling father. His machines began to beep as he went into cardiac arrest. Nurses and doctors rushed in, pushing Brendan to the side. One of them shook his shoulders to bring him back to reality.

"Mr Brady, he's asking for you."

"Let him die, I don't even want to watch." Brendan said stiffly, walking to the door. Moments later he heard the resounding flat line.

Steven was holding a distraught Cheryl outside. When they saw him they ran into his arms, all three of them clinging together. He held them both tightly, knowing that he would never stop taking care of them. But knowing now they would also take care of him. It wasn't about taking the power back anymore, he was long past that. It was about looking ahead to the future, building a new life with the people he loved. Most importantly, it was about family and the new one he had built.


End file.
